Revelations
by highlands girl
Summary: A revelation is a surprising and previously unknown fact, often revealed in a dramatic way. This story contains a few of those, along with the exploding cars, wily skips and devoted Merry Men that we expect from Plum stories. Babe story.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Last August, Christi issued a "Midsummer Writing Challenge" on BCRU. The goal was to include as many of the following as possible in __**1000 words or less**__: __3 car explosions, a building explosion, a skip apprehension, an exercise scene with Stephanie and at least 1 other person, a chat at the bonds office with Connie, Lula and Stephanie, Ranger and Stephanie in the alley, Stephanie and Joe at Pino's, 1 or more Merry Men sent to the hospital while on Bomber duty, dinner at the Plum household, a viewing at the funeral home with grandma trying to get into the casket, a fight scene with one of the following pairs: Ranger/Morelli, Lula/Grandma Bella, Stephanie/Joyce Barnhardt, Helen Plum/Grandma Bella. Well, I failed the challenge… both in terms of the word count and the deadline. Nevertheless, once I started this fluffy little story, I couldn't seem to stop. I'll post every Tuesday until the story is complete. As always, the characters and many of the plot elements belong to JE. I've just rearranged them a bit._

_Huge thanks to Dog in the Manger for her skills as a beta, her unending patience and her friendship. All mistakes are mine._

Connie propped her iPad up on her desk next to a Bluetooth speaker.

"Put the mats over here." She gestured to the space between her desk and the plate glass window that looked out onto Hamilton.

"Damn, we look _fine_," Lula said as she unrolled her yoga mat and placed it next to mine. "We look like we could be representin' Team USA in the Olympic yoga event."

Over black yoga pants, we were wearing stretchy tanks in different colors. Mine was blue. Connie's was red with white polka dots. Lula's was white… with sequins. Truth be told, maybe Lula's tank didn't stretch quite enough.

"Huh," said Connie. "I don't think yoga is an Olympic event." She looked at Lula like she was just noticing her appearance for the first time that morning. Lula's long hair was done up in little braids that were gathered into a high ponytail. At the end of each braid were beads. Red, white and blue.

"It should be. We could dominate the synchronized yoga event." As Lula talked, the beads clacked together, as if for emphasis.

"Yoga's really not about competition and domination," Connie said patiently. "It's about meditation and aligning the mind and body—"

"I bet I can out-meditate, out-align anybody," Lula interrupted confidently.

"Um, well, OK." Connie must have realized that it was futile to argue with Lula because she turned and touched the power button on the iPad. As she centered her bare feet on her yoga mat, she said, "Let's just get started. This one is called 'Sun Salutation for Beginners' so we should just be able to do what the leader tells us to do. If you get lost, look at the video on the screen."

New Age-y music filled the bonds office and we heard the soothing, electronic voice of the Pocket Yoga instructor.

"Come into _downward facing dog_. Sink down deep between your shoulder blades and let your tailbone reach toward the sky, as the heels press down towards the earth. Inhaaaale," she intoned a breathy voice. "Bend your knees and look forward. Exhaale.

As I stretched, I felt a familiar, pleasurable tingle along my spine. _Holy crap, Connie was right! Yoga was amazing_. Usually I only got this feeling when Ranger was close enough to suck me into his Bulgari-scented orbit. Who knows? Maybe if I got good at this, I would experience some of the other sensations that only happened in Ranger's presence. My panties dampened a little at _that_ thought. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, stretching my spine as the disembodied voice from the iPad instructed me to do.

"Babe." The new voice was low and husky. "I need to see you outside."

I opened one eye and instead of looking forward, I stole a glance backward. Ranger was standing at the door to the bonds office. He might have been thinking about smiling but it was hard for me to tell upside down.

Muttering, "Be right back" to Connie and Lula, I struggled to my feet and followed Ranger into to the alley. Suddenly my back was pressed against the bricks. Ranger placed his hands on the alley wall on either side of my head and leaned into me.

"Care to explain?"

"We're doing yoga."

Ranger brushed a gentle kiss across my lips, teasing my bottom lip with his tongue. "In the bonds office? Because…?" His voice trailed off, letting his question hang in the air.

"There's a new yoga instructor at the community center. He's from Oregon and Connie is pretty sure he's The One."

"The One?"

"You know, her soul mate… the one she wants to spend the rest of her life with."

"Connie and a yoga instructor… this is quite a development," Ranger said thoughtfully. Yep, he was smiling. "Is this a case of opposites attract, or do they actually have a lot in common?"

"Um… that's a good question." I answered. "It could be either. She hasn't actually talked to him yet, but once we get good enough to join the class, she's going to. For now, she's just been kind of observing him from afar."

Ranger pulled back a few inches and stared at me in disbelief. "But she's sure he's _The One_."

"Of course. Don't you believe in love at first sight?"

Ranger sighed. "Not really. Not until today. But when I saw you wiggling your perfect little ass in the air, I think I may have changed my mind."

"You've seen me before. Lots of times. Today wouldn't count as love at first sight," I countered, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. After all, Ranger didn't actually say _he_ loved _me_.

"I haven't seen you like that before, from behind, you bent over-"

I glared at him. "Besides, I wasn't wiggling my ass. I told you, I was doing yoga. I'm trying to achieve inner bliss."

"Babe." Ranger's eyes darkened. "If you wanted bliss, all you had to do was ask."

Funny, the kiss he gave me seemed to work way better than yoga for aligning my mind and body. Usually, when Ranger was nearby, my body was whispering, "Yes, come closer," while my brain was shouting "No! Danger! Danger!" Now, both mind and body were practically shrieking, "Yes! Live dangerously!"

When we finally broke apart, Ranger said, "Tank and I have to fly to Boston to meet with a client. The timing isn't ideal, but it can't be helped. Lester and Hector are going to be your shadows for the day. Try not to break them before I get home tonight."

I was still a little breathless from the kiss, but I managed to pant out, "What makes you think I want shadows?"

"Not want, Babe. Need." He cupped my chin in his hand

"Last week, you brought in a FTA named Igor Slossberg."

I nodded. Igor had been arrested for vandalizing the Ticket Vending Machine at the Trenton Transit Center and slugging the guard who tried to stop him. It wasn't a particularly memorable apprehension. He liked to drink at Two Pelicans Tavern, down by the docks. After his third beer, he needed to relieve himself. Lula and I had followed him into the men's room and stunned him as he stood in front of the urinal.

"His family isn't so happy that you brought him in. Word on the street is that they are looking for a little payback."

"Igor's father owns the Jewish deli on Tenth. What's he going to do? Refuse to sell me any knishes?" I giggled at my own joke, feeling very brave.

Ranger played with a curl that had escaped my messy ponytail and tucked it behind my ear. "Igor's parents are divorced. After the split, his mother moved home to Brighton Beach. Her brother, Igor's uncle, is a player in the Russian mob."

Little black dots swam in front of my eyes and suddenly, I was feeling more lightheaded than brave. If Ranger hadn't held me up, I think I would have ended up in a heap on the ground.

"Breathe, Babe. I've got you. I'm not going to let anybody hurt you." Our bodies were pressed together firmly from chest to groin and Ranger's thumbs ghosted across the exposed skin between the top of my yoga pants and the bottom of tank top. "You just need to lie low today and let Hector and Lester keep you safe. I'll take care of everything else."

I felt his breath on the shell of my ear and the tip of his tongue reached out to flick my earlobe before he pulled back to look me in the eye.

"You just have to promise me one thing. No _bliss _until I get back, OK?"

_oOoOo_

I leaned against my current POS car, an '86 Mercury Grand Marquis with a grey-primered quarter panel, facing Lester and Hector.

"So what's our plan for the day, Beautiful?" Lester asked with a smile.

Instead of answering, I fiddled with the zipper on the black RangeMan windbreaker. Ranger had extracted the jacket from the trunk of his car and wrapped it around me before he had headed to the airport. I guess he didn't think my yoga attire was appropriate for a day with Lester and Hector. Well, at least Lester.

"Aww, don't tell me you're going to make us follow you around all day, pretending like we're not trailing you. It'll be more fun if we can just take one car," Lester argued.

I sighed wearily. "I guess you're right." Always having someone after me—and it seemed like it was a different someone every week- was turning out to be exhausting.

"I'll drive," Lester said, sounding relieved.

I glanced at the shiny, black RangeMan Explorer parked down the block and then at my car. _Time to get your moxie back, Plum,_ I told myself. I straightened up and managed an almost smile at Lester. "I don't think so," I told him. "_I'll_ drive. Just let me get my purse from the bonds office."

I was almost to the door when I felt strong arms wrap around me. I was on the ground, a firm body pressed against my back like a shield, a second or two before I heard the sound of the blast. Two minutes ago, I had a Grand Marquis with a rusted out hole in the trunk. Now the Grand Marquis was more hole than car.

"You OK, Estephania?" Hector whispered in my ear.

I couldn't speak, but I managed to nod in assent.

"Don't worry, chica," he whispered in my ear. "I drive."


	2. Chapter Two: Playing With Fire

_A/N: A big hug to Dog in the Manger for her excellent beta skills and to all of you for reading._

"I think we should go back to Haywood," Lester tried to insist. "Beautiful has a scrape on her elbow. Bobby should take a look at it."

Hector sat in the driver's seat of the Explorer while Lester got in the back with me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. Physically, I really was OK, but I couldn't seem to stop shaking.

"Nooo," I pleaded. "I don't wanna go to Haywood. I want Pino's."

"Ella necessita Pino's," Hector said to Lester. "Vayamos a Pino's." I didn't understand what he said, but the way he smiled made me think I was going to get my meatball sub.

We had just taken our seats at the booth in the back corner when I heard a familiar voice.

"Cupcake."

Joe Morelli strode toward our table. His dark, wavy hair was cut uncharacteristically short and he was wearing a shirt and tie. I suspected he had come straight from court, but before I had a chance to ask, he surprised me.

"I thought about you this morning." He gave me a look that was almost tender… maybe a look that said he missed me, or at least he missed waking up with me in his bed.

Before I could work up a pang of guilt mixed with a little regret, Joe's jaw hardened and he said, "A house on Roebling Avenue exploded—"

"It wasn't my fault," I protested.

"I know," he sighed. "There was a gas leak and one of the utility company workers dispatched to repair it lit a cigarette during a work break. Still, when I heard the call go out over the scanner, I couldn't help but wonder…"

"I wasn't anywhere near Roebling today," I said firmly. Apparently Joe hadn't heard about my car yet and I wasn't going to offer up the information. He didn't need the ammunition.

Up to this point, Joe had ignored Hector and Lester. Now he gestured at them and grimaced. His implication was clear. _What have you gotten yourself into now, Cupcake? _"Boyfriends or bodyguards?" he asked.

I felt the men on either side of me shift in their seats. They were each getting ready to defend my honor, albeit in their own unique way. Lester was morphing into an ex-Special Forces bad ass. "Morelli—," he began, his voice was low and threatening.

Hector, on the other hand, shot Joe a lascivious grin, scooted closer to me and stage whispered in my ear. _Interesting idea, chica. I be willing to try something new._

I ignored both of the Merry Men. I needed to deal with Joe in my own way. "Does it really matter?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

Joe regarded me for a long minute and then he looked at me sadly. "Unless something's changed, I guess not."

His eyes searched my face and I guess he found his answer. He turned to go, saying to Lester and Hector, "Either way, I suspect you're in for a lot of heartache. Try to keep her out of trouble."

Hector moved close enough to me that I could feel the gun at his hip. "You want I shoot him?"

"No!" Lester and I answered in unison. I turned and placed a quick kiss on one of Hector's teardrop tattoos. "Thanks for the offer though."

Suddenly, I realized that maybe Pino's wasn't such a good idea. My head hurt. My scraped elbow throbbed. The twisting in my lower abdomen made me worry that I was getting my period early. And I really, really had to pee.

"I think I've lost my appetite," I told them. "Let me go to the little girls' room and we can leave."

I had one hand on the ladies' room door when I caught a whiff of ick. An over-perfumed Joyce Barnhardt pushed past me and locked herself in the first stall. "I hope you aren't in a hurry, Plum," she threw over her shoulder. "I plan to be a while." It was then that I saw the "Out of Order" signs plastered on the two other stalls.

"Dammit, Joyce. Hurry up." My situation was becoming urgent.

"Oh, I don't think I can do that," she taunted me. "I sure hope you can hold it."

I kicked the stall door, dredging up an insult first hurled in the third grade when Joyce had gastrointestinal distress during math class. "Fart face!"

"Sticks and stones…" she flung back at me. "At least I won't piss my pants."

Unfortunately, Joyce was leaving me no choice. I needed to go. I exited the ladies room and exercised my only option. With any luck, the men's room would be empty. I pushed the door marked "Gents" cautiously. What I saw sent me scurrying back to our booth.

"You need to help me," I gasped at Lester and Hector. They were both on their feet instantly. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Lester looked concerned. Hector just looked… scary.

"My skip is in the men's room!"

"What happened? Did he hurt you?" Les asked again, scanning me for injuries.

"No. Nothing like that." I felt myself blush a little. _How to explain my urgent situation?_

"We apprehend him for you?" Hector supplied hopefully, guessing at what I needed.

"I don't care," I ground out, crossing my legs as best I could. "Just get him out of the bathroom so I can use it." Les looked liked he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn't.

Stay here," he told me. I understood the look he shot at Hector. _Watch her_.

Murmuring an apology, I took off after Lester, Hector hot on my heels. As we neared the men's room, we heard the sounds of a struggle and then an expletive from Les. That was followed by the unmistakable shriek of the fire alarm.

Now Cameron Josephson was on the ground, face down, his hands cuffed behind his back. Hector stood at his side, talking to Carl, Big Dog and the Trenton Fire Chief, Michael McGuire.

Lester and I sat at a nearby table, watching them. I was feeling much better. At the sound of the fire alarm, Joyce had vacated the premises. Disaster averted. Lester, on the other hand, looked a little the worse for wear. He had a cold, damp kitchen towel wrapped around his left forearm. When he lifted the towel, I could see the reddened skin underneath beginning to blister.

"Tell me again why he was arrested," Lester said.

"Unlawful taking, public intoxication, use of a controlled substance, second degree disorderly conduct, and third degree disorderly trespassing," I read from the bond sheet.

One of Lester's eyebrows shot up, questioning. _Geez, could everybody do that but me?_

I sighed and closed the file. "He was arrested at the ShopRite and accused of huffing the nitrous oxide from tens cans of Reddi-wip. When police officers found him in aisle four, he had slurred speech, he was unsteady on his feet, and he was frightening other customers. The total value of the empty Reddi-wip cans was $26.70 and although he offered to pay for them, he only had $7 in his pocket."

"We apprehend dangerous criminal almost every day without this much trouble," muttered Les. "Drug lords. Rapists. Serial arsonists."

"I promise, there was nothing about firesetting," I added.

"I was exercising my constitutional right to freedom of religion! That toilet needed an exorcism!" the skip yelled.

Hector placed his toe of his boot in the middle of the skip's back, urging him to be silent.

"It's not everyday that someone sets a toilet on fire in Pino's. There has been a rash of cases like this in San Francisco, but I don't think we've had one in Trenton," the fire chief said conversationally. He might have been trying to make Les feel better for not being so aware of his surroundings. Lester hadn't been expecting a flaming toilet, as the burns on his forearm attested. "You should get that arm looked at," Chief McGuire told him kindly. "If you haven't had a tetanus shot recently, you should probably get one."

Carl and Big Dog loaded up the skip, offering to take him in while we ran by the emergency room. It took just over an hour for the wounds on Lester's arm to be cleaned and dressed. As we exited St. Francis and headed for the Explorer, my stomach growled noisily.

"Ella necessita comer," Hector growled at Les. "Estephania, you like tacos?" he asked me.

I nodded my head affirmatively just as my cell phone rang.

"Steph, when you're done at the hospital, I need you to come down to the station." There was an urgency in Carl's tone and he sounded out of breath.

"Was there a problem with the paperwork?" I asked.

"Nothing like that," he said. I couldn't remember ever hearing Carl sound so perplexed. "It's your grandma. She was brought in for causing a disturbance at the Heavenly Rest Funeral Home."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Special thanks to Dog in the Manger for her editorial expertise! All mistakes are mine._

We pulled into the parking lot at the TPD and for once, RangeMan parking karma failed us. Apparently, the department had just taken delivery of a new fleet of black-and-whites. Nearly every space close to the building was occupied by a new Dodge Charger.

"You can wait here for me," I said as Hector eased the Explorer into a spot on the street.

Jerking his head toward Morelli's Jeep, parked near the end of the first row, Lester replied, "No can do, Beautiful."

"We already had our disagreement for the day," I argued. "I'll be good." My shadows just smiled and followed me into the squad room where they took up residence on either side of the door.

My grandma sat on the wooden chair next to Carl's desk, a steaming cup of bad coffee in front of her. I noticed that she was short enough that her feet didn't quite reach the floor when she sat back in the chair. She was fidgeting like a third-grader who had been called to the principal's office. From the relieved look Carl shot me when I entered the station room, I gathered that she had been a handful.

"Don't you need to frisk me?" she asked him hopefully. "Maybe handcuff me to you so I won't get away?"

Carl cleared his throat nervously. "I don't think that will be necessary Mrs. Mazur. I don't expect that a nice lady like you will give us any trouble."

"Don't be so sure of that," Grandma told him. "After all, I'm _her _granny!"

"Grandma," I tried to be stern with her. "Explain."

My grandma sighed. "It was my last chance. I had to know."

Carl and I just looked at her.

"Sister Mary Imelda died," she said, as if that explained everything.

Carl was shaking his head. "Sister Mary Imelda who taught us second grade religion at St. Anne's?" he asked.

"I thought she was dead," I interjected. "She was older than dirt when Carl and I made our first Holy Communion."

"Well, she's dead now," Grandma said, sliding her teeth around in her mouth. "She was old when she taught your mother second grade religion. When I was in school though, she was right out of the convent."

"Wait," I protested, trying to do the mental math. "That would make her over 100 years old."

"Ninety-nine, actually," Grandma said, tapping her toes against the rungs of the chair.

"You were trying to get into the closed casket of a ninety-nine year old nun?" Carl obviously couldn't wrap his head around the situation.

"Grandma! What were you thinking?" I scolded.

"I was thinking I had to know if she really had the tattoo on her left boob. Alice and I have been wondering about that since the seventh grade, when we first heard the story."

"Excuse me?" Carl coughed nervously. Neither one of us had ESP, but we were obviously thinking the same thing: _No way did that wrinkled little nun, who never gave up wearing a black habit and veil, have a tattoo. On her boob._

Grandma sighed and shook her head at us. "She wasn't always Sister Mary Imelda. When she was teenager, she was a redheaded spitfire named Penelope. On a family trip to Paris, she ran away to become an actress. That's when she got the tattoo, or so the story goes." She paused, making sure we were keeping up. "Her family sent her to the convent to keep her out of trouble. Eventually, she decided to stay and became Sister Mary Imelda."

Honestly, I still wasn't buying it. Girls named Penelope did _not_ grow up to wear black orthopedic shoes. And white support hose.

Carl, on the other hand, was sucked in by Grandma's story. "Tell me more about the tattoo," he urged.

"It was the all–seeing eye of God." Grandma was smirking now.

"I knew it had to be something like that!" Carl said. "I could never get away with anything in her class."

"Right?" Grandma said. "It was the same for me." She looked at Carl thoughtfully. "If I had another five minutes with that screwdriver, I know I could have gotten that casket open."

I was beginning to worry that Carl was going to volunteer to help, just so he could see that legendary tattoo, when my stomach growled loudly. I remembered that I had missed breakfast as well as lunch. Connie had insisted that pre-yoga donuts were bad karma.

"We need to get you home," I said to Grandma. "Do I need to call Vinnie?" As soon as I asked Carl the question, I felt a rush of anxiety. Skip tracing had been slow the last few weeks. There was no way I could cover even a low bond with what I had in my checking account. I was going to have to call my parents.

"Nah. Father Anthony doesn't want to press charges. " Carl coughed again and looked down, so he wouldn't have to look me in the eye. "He does, however, want restitution from your family. He says the punishment needs to fit the crime."

A cold wave of realization washed over me. One nun had left this world. Father Anthony wanted a replacement. I was going to be shipped off to a convent, just like Penelope, to keep my Grandma out of jail. I was pretty sure that Ranger kisses… probably Ranger anything… wouldn't be allowed at the convent. Maybe there would be an alley at the convent? For the second time today, little black dots were dancing in front of my eyes and I thought I might pass out. Suddenly, I felt my head pushed between my knees, Lester's hand at the back of neck. "She hyperventilates when she gets upset," I heard him explain to Carl. "Deep, slow breaths," he said to me.

"It's not that bad," Carl said when I had regained my composure. He looked puzzled. My Grandma almost looked contrite. "They always need extra help at the Sacred Heart Retirement Home on Saturdays. Father Anthony wants you, your Grandma and your sister to do a little light cleaning, maybe help serve lunch for the next few Saturdays." Carl paused, laughing now. "He also expects to see the three of you in church this Sunday. He says it's been a while."

"No worries, chica," said Hector said quietly. "I usually go Nuestra Senora de los Angeles for la misa en espagnol but this week, I go to St. Anne's with you."

As we stood and turned to leave, Carl cleared his throat with a glance toward the hallway that led to the detectives' offices. "Might be best to avoid Morelli if you can," he said. "He's had a hard day."

"I'm not worried about Morelli," I told Carl with a little smile. " We broke up. He doesn't get to yell at me." _At least more than once a day._

Nevertheless, Hector and Lester were taking no chances. They steered Grandma and me away from Joe's office. When we reached the door that led to the loading dock, I thought we were home free. When we stepped out onto the concrete platform, I noticed that Joe's Jeep Patriot was still in the lot and shivered. I attributed my unease to the sudden change in weather… the temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees while we were inside TPD headquarters and the sky had turned an ominous gray.

We were at the Explorer and Hector had already boosted Grandma up onto the back seat when I heard his voice.

"You've outdone yourself today, Cupcake." Joe sounded angry.

"I had _nothing _to do with the incident at the funeral home," I replied, hands on my hips. OK, maybe I sounded a little defensive. My grandma just smiled sweetly but I'm pretty sure Joe could see through the innocent little old lady routine.

"And Pino's, well, that was completely unexpected. But that was Lester and not me." Joe narrowed his eyes. Uh oh. Maybe he hadn't heard about Pino's yet.

"Your car, Stephanie. I'm talking about your car." He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at me. "The bomb squad recovered the trigger from the explosion that destroyed your car. That sort of trigger has been used in at least three other car explosions in the last 6 months."

"Tabajo rapido," Hector muttered. _Fast work._

"Yeah, well, the signature was pretty distinctive… the tech recognized it right away. February, in Miami, a nightclub owner was killed when his Jag exploded outside his club. In March, an old guy and his wife were killed in Philly after an NHL game. They had traveled from Moscow to see their son, a forward for the Flyers." Joe paused. I think he must have been wondering if I had made the connection yet.

"The third?" My voice sounded faint and faraway to my ears.

Joe looked grim. "A used car dealership near Brighton Beach. The owner reportedly had ties to Bratva."

I expected a rant about my job, maybe some arm waving and a tirade about my ability to attract crazies and other stalkers. What I wasn't expecting was… regret.

"This isn't working, Cupcake," Joe said softly.

"I keep telling you that, Joe. That's why we're in a permanent off phase."

"_On_ doesn't work very well but I hate _off_," Joe said miserably. "When we're on, I drink Maalox by the case, but at least you walk Bob on the nights I have to work late and the sex is phenomenal."

"Please! Not in front of Grandma!" I protested. _What the hell... you mention my skills as a dog walker and then the sex. Seriously?_ I thought.

"Maybe I could still walk Bob occasionally," I said noncommittally. "I really like Bob."

"My point is, not being together doesn't make me worry any less. I thought it might but it doesn't." Joe gave me one last, sad look. "The truth is, when your car explodes with you in it, I am going to be heartbroken."

Joe turned away from me, holding his car keys in his hand. He pointed the key fob at his Jeep and pushed "remote start," hoping, I guess, for a speedy getaway from me and the disaster that was my life. I heard the low rumble of thunder, and honestly, the wetness on my cheek could have been from the raindrops that had started to fall.

Suddenly there was a 'pop' and a flash of orange as the Jeep exploded, the fireball consuming the police cruisers parked on either side. Then everything went black.


	4. Chapter Four: Sibling Rivalry

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this story. Hugs to Dog in the Manger, who always makes what I write better. **

As I struggled to regain some awareness of my surroundings, I heard the sounds: heartbreaking little sobs, punctuated by soft hiccups.

I couldn't seem to open my eyes but I had the impression of being surrounded by roses. Pink and red roses.

Then I heard the somber voice, barely audible over the pounding in my head.

_So beautiful, even death, that the dwarves could not find it in their hearts to bury her… they fashioned a coffin of glass and gold and kept eternal vigil by her side…_

_Crap. _

_I wasn't just dead. I was Disney dead. If I couldn't be Wonder Woman, I at least deserved to be a kickass princess like Mulan or that little redhead in Brave. But nooo… I had eaten a bite of a stupid apple… Seriously? Have you met me? I could see me taking a TastyKake from a stranger but an apple? Never! And now I had to be rescued. Again. My alternative reality bore a scary resemblance to my real life._

As my eyes finally fluttered open, I was expecting to catch a glimpse of Doc or Grumpy or Bashful, weeping at my side. Instead, a familiar face wearing a very relieved expression swam into view. "So… Which dwarf are you?" I asked groggily.

"I'm Sexy," Lester replied, grinning lecherously while he combed his fingers through his spiky blond hair. "Although, if you hadn't come around soon, I was going to make like Prince Charming and try to wake you with a kiss."

The threat of a Santos kiss sent an unexpected, but not unwelcome _zing!_ straight to my doodah. Turns out, I wasn't really dead after all.

Then, the memories of the explosion at the TPD came flooding back and I struggled to get myself in a seated position on my parents' chintz-covered couch.

"Omigod, where's my Grandma? Is she OK? What about Hector?"

"Your Grandma's fine. She was safe inside the Explorer, when the bomb went off. She's upstairs updating her Facebook page," Lester smirked. "She told me the girls at the Clip n' Curl were going to be so jealous."

The pounding in my head forced me to slump back a little against the couch cushions, but not before I caught sight of Hector and he gave me a friendly finger wave.

He was seated in my dad's recliner, bouncing my youngest niece, Lisa, on his lap. Angie was perched on the arm of the chair and Mary Alice was on the floor, her back against Hector's knees.

"Uncle Hector is watching Snow White with us," Mary Alice said. "It's one of his favorite movies too."

_Uncle Hector? _My sister Valerie must have noticed my confusion.

"Hey, I try to be a good mom," Valerie said, hanging over the back of the couch. "I teach my kids to show respect for their elders. 'Uncle Hector' is way easier to say than 'Mister Mendoza'."

I tried to ignore my sister, focusing all of my attention on Lester. "I have such a terrible headache, but I'm not sure why."

"You hit your head when you fainted, just after the explosion. Bobby suspects it was a combination of stress and shock and that you hadn't eaten all day."

"I'm glad he let you bring me to my parents' house, but I'm surprised. The last time I fainted, he insisted on IV fluids and a CT scan of my head."

Lester kneeled down beside the couch, cupping my chin in his hand. "That's not off the table if you don't feel better after you eat. But the ER at St. Francis is going to be a little overwhelmed for the next few hours." He hesitated briefly. "That blast blew out all the windows on the back side of Trenton PD and part of an interior wall collapsed from the shock waves. There were… casualties. Bobby wanted to be here taking care of you, but they really needed his help on scene."

A wave of nausea washed over me and suddenly I was feeling lightheaded again. "Joe?"

"He's was hit in the arm by a piece of metal from the explosion. He'll need some stitches, but he'll be OK."

"I'm worried that this _is _all my fault," I sobbed.

"No, Beautiful. It's not," Lester insisted, propping 3 couch cushions under my heels so my feet were higher than my head. "Joe is alive because he came over to talk to you instead of going straight to his car."

Holding up a juice glass filled with ginger ale, he stuck in a bendy straw and brought it close to my lips. "I need you to drink this so you don't faint again."

"Maybe you're pregnant," Valerie offered conversationally. "Fainting can be an early sign of pregnancy."

The sound from the direction of the kitchen was unmistakable. Glass shattering against linoleum.

"I'm NOT pregnant," I screeched.

"Hey, don't say it that way," Valerie protested. "It happens to nice girls too. I know this for a fact. Sometimes these things just happen, even when you're careful."

She smiled fondly at her daughter Lisa, who was now standing on Hector's lap, her tiny fingers tracing his teardrop tattoo.

"Not possible," I insisted in a low voice, hoping my sister could also hear what I didn't say. _Just drop it._

Valerie turned so her back was to her older daughters and she dropped her voice.

"No method of birth control is 100 percent," she said. "Ask me. This I know from experience."

"You're wrong." My voice was a harsh whisper. "There's one method that is completely effective.

Valerie's face scrunched up, like she was trying to process what I had said. Then recognition dawned and a smile lit up her face.

"No way," she exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Really? How long has it been?"

"Three months, thirteen days, " I answered truthfully. _But hey, who's counting?_

Hector and Lester shot me pitying looks. Les looked like he was going to say something but Valerie cut him off.

"You have two of the hottest men in Trenton as boyfriends, but I'm getting it more often than you are?" Valerie looked happier than I'd seen her in months. Sibling rivalry was alive and well in the Plum household.

"Joe isn't my boyfriend anymore. We broke up. As for Ranger..." I trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished, while I tried to figure out what to say about _him._ He hadn't ever been my boyfriend, exactly. Best friend. Protector. Even lover on occasion. But I couldn't really see classifying him as a boyfriend. Before I could work out the puzzle in my head, a growl from the direction of the front door interrupted my internal dialogue.

"Who's been sitting in my chair?" my father asked in a gruff voice.

"Grandpa Bear!" Angie squealed, flying off the arm of the chair and into his arms."

"Hey there, Goldilocks," he said, planting a kiss on the top of her blond curls. "How are my girls today?"

Hector struggled to his feet, sidestepping Mary Alice, while cradling a now sleeping Lisa in his arms.

"No te preocupes," my father said to Hector. "_Don't worry_. We play this game every afternoon. The girls sit in that chair and wait for me." He glanced at the baby in Hector's arms. "I see you have the magic touch. Usually I'm the only one who can get her to settle down for her afternoon nap. I'm home late today because I had to drive Mrs. Weyland home from her doctor's office and we had to make an unexpected stop at the drug store." He smiled fondly at the baby who had one thumb in her mouth and her face squashed against Hector's chest. "Thanks for filling in for me."

"De nada," said Hector, looking relieved.

I was staring at my father, open-mouthed, during the exchange. Since he had retired from the post office several years ago, he had driven a cab for a few hours each day. For reasons that were obvious to all of us, he needed the break from my mother and my grandmother. Now my father was known to be a man of few words and I normally I would have spent some time puzzling over the longish explanation he had just given Hector. I just couldn't get past the first three words he had spoken. _No te preocupes._ I was so busy thinking about my father speaking Spanish that I missed that Lector had immediately snapped to attention when my father had entered the room.

"Major Plum."

"At ease, solider. That's been a long time."

"Maybe," Lester admitted. "But no one's forgotten."

It was apparent that Lester knew things about my father that I didn't, but before I could ask for an explanation, my mother emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Let's eat," she said. "The meatloaf's getting cold."


	5. Chapter Five: Father Knows Best

**A/N: JE created the characters and many of the story elements. I'm just mixing things up a bit. Dog in the Manger has worked her beta magic here. Thanks for following along!**

The bad guys were running amok in Trenton. One or more of them had tried to kill me this morning. I'm guessing the same guys had tried to kill Joe this afternoon, nearly blowing up the TPD in the process. Nevertheless, my mother made it clear to all of us that the immediate priority in the Plum household was dinner.

My father scooped Lisa up from Hector's arms and carried her upstairs to the Porta-crib set up in my childhood bedroom. Val hustled the girls off to wash their hands, while Lester and Hector, standing on either side of me, tugged me to my feet. Working together, we arranged three extra chairs from the kitchen around the dining room table.

There was a moment of silence, when we were all seated. As always, my father was at the head of the table and my mother sat opposite him, in the chair closest to the kitchen. Grandma, Val, and Angie took the chairs to my dad's left, while I sat between Lester and Hector on his right. Mary Alice was perched on a stool at the corner of the table between my mother and Hector.

"Mary Alice," my mother said, unfolding her napkin and dropping it into her lap. "I believe it's your turn to say grace."

My niece tucked her head a little and shot Hector a shy smile. "I want Uncle Hector to say it with me," she insisted.

Hector didn't hesitate. "OK, chica, I pray with you," he said quietly, before my mother could protest.

We all made the sign of the cross and then bowed our heads as Hector and Mary Alice began to recite the blessing that had preceded every meal at my parents' house for as long as I could remember:

_Bless us Oh Lord, and these thy gifts…_

When they finished, Mary Alice raised her head and offered an expected, spontaneous prayer. "Thank you too, dear Lord, for saving Aunt Stephanie from the bomb today."

"Amen," said Hector.

My mother had made mashed potatoes and buttered corn to serve with the meatloaf. The only green things on the table were the cotton napkins folded at the side of each plate, but no one seemed to mind. I noticed that Hector and Lester each happily accepted my mom's offer of a second helping.

Usually meatloaf was one of my favorites. But tonight, although I hadn't eaten all day, my mother's dinner held surprisingly little appeal for me. Under Lester's worried gaze, I managed a couple of bites of potatoes studded with corn kernels and spent the rest of dinner pushing food around on my plate. But when my mother brought warm caramel apple pie and vanilla ice cream to the table for dessert, the heavy feeling in my stomach disappeared and my characteristic appetite suddenly returned.

I was halfway though my second piece of pie, when my mother folded her napkin and placed it by her plate. "Would you like another piece of pie or more coffee?" she asked Lester and Hector. When they shook their heads politely, she stood up and turned to my oldest niece. "It's your turn to help me with the dishes, Angie." Straightening in her chair, Angie pushed her blond bangs out of her eyes and decided to take a page from her little sister's book.

"Maybe Uncle Hector could help me," she suggested hopefully.

Hector stood up immediately and picked up his dessert plate. "I can do that," he agreed.

My mother raised both hands at him in a _'stop'_ gesture. "That's very kind of you, Hector, but, please, just sit back down and talk with Stephanie, while she finishes her dessert." She turned to Angie and gave her a stern look.

"Angela Marie, does Kenzie Marshall's grandmother invite people to dinner and then expect them to do the dishes?"

Kenzie was Angie's best friend and her grandma played bunco with my mom every Tuesday. "No, probably not," Angie admitted, looking defeated.

"I didn't think so," my mother answered a little smugly. "Let's get started on these dishes."

While my mom and Angie headed into the kitchen, Val and Mary Alice went upstairs to check on Lisa. I was seriously contemplating a third piece of piece of pie, when my stomach started to protest. I pushed my chair back from the table, thinking it was time to say our goodbyes and head for home. The pain in my head had receded to a dull ache… probably nothing that a few extra-strength Tylenol and a long soak in a hot bath wouldn't fix. I wondered briefly what time Ranger was due back in Trenton and if he would stop by to see me when he returned. Memories of our talk in the alley left me feeling warm and tingly… and damp. A bath with some Bulgari-scented bubbles was definitely first on my agenda. I scooped up a little bit of the caramel left on my plate and popped my finger in my mouth to stifle the moan that almost invariably accompanied thoughts of my favorite bad-ass bounty hunter.

"I'm tired, guys. You can take me back to my apartment."

"No!" Hector and Lester answered in unison.

I was getting ready to protest when my father spoke. "No," he said. "That doesn't sound like a good idea."

My mouth fell open into a perfectly shaped "O" and I looked at my father, speechless. At least, the man, sitting at the end of the table, _looked_ like my father. Except my father didn't have opinions about my life, or if he did, he certainly didn't voice them… with authority even. This man looked less like Frank Plum, retired postal worker, and more like the Major Plum, whom Lester had addressed earlier. _Cue the X-files theme song._

"Your apartment is _not_ an option," Lester added more firmly, his confidence bolstered by my father's support. I was struggling to come up with an appropriate retort when my father spoke again.

"What instructions did Ranger give you?" he asked my RangeMen bodyguards.

Hector answered him without hesitation. "We keep Estephania safe until he get home and deal with the problem."

My father relaxed in his chair and regarded us thoughtfully from his position at the end of the table. "So how do the three of you think you can best accomplish what he asked you to do?"

"I could stay on the seventh floor at RangeMan," I offered quickly, happy to be back in the conversation and included in the decision-making. _With the whirlpool tub in Ranger's bathroom and the thousand thread count sheets on his bed, staying on seven wasn't exactly a hardship_.

Major Plum seemed to consider that possibility. "Vulnerabilities?" He raised one eyebrow and looked at Lester as he spoke.

"We can control the ground perimeter, no problem." Les ran his fingers though his hair. "An air attack might be an issue."

"That was a bold move at the Trenton PD today," my father said quietly. "Who's to say they won't go after RangeMan next?"

We sat in silence, pondering my father's question. I was so busy contemplating who _'they'_ might be that it took me a moment to process the implications of what he had said. RangeMan had always seemed like a fortress to me, someplace where the crazies could never get to me. I felt the panic start to rise in my chest and wished desperately for Ranger to be home and make all of this go away. OK, maybe he didn't have to make that happen right away if he could distract me from thinking about it for a few hours. Or days. Lester's eyes widened in surprise and all of a sudden my dad was back and he looked uncomfortable. _Uh oh. I'm guessing I said at least part of that out loud. _Fortunately, Hector came to my rescue. Again.

"La casa," he said. _ The house._

The uncertainty in Lester's eyes didn't seem to match his response. "That's a possibility. We should ask him."

"No time. No better option. He trust us. He need her to be safe." Hector's speech was rapid-fire and insistent.

Seated at the table between the two of them, I could feel the silent communication that ensued. When Lester sighed, I knew that they had come to a decision and Hector had prevailed.

"I'm not going to a safe house," I interjected. _You can't make me,_ I thought silently. _There's probably only one person who could and he's not here._

"It's not a safe house," said Lester. "But it is _very_ safe." My father gave him a brief nod of approval and escorted us to the front door.

When we stepped out onto my parents' front porch, there were now two black Explorers parked out front. The headlights of the second one flashed at us briefly in a seeming gesture of reassurance.

"Binkie and Vince," Lester offered, before I could even pose the question. "I didn't want to take any chances that someone would tamper with our vehicle while we were at dinner." He cleared his throat and addressed my dad once again. "Bones and Ram are stationed in the back alley, sir. I'd like to leave both teams here for the night, if that's OK with you."

"You have additional backup for your trip?"

"Affirmative. Two minutes out."

Hector and Lester shook my dad's hand, although I got the feeling that Lester would have been more comfortable with a salute. I moved to the edge of the porch, more than ready to get this show on the road.

What happened next had me scrambling backwards and into my father's outstretched arms. I was shaking uncontrollably and he just held me tightly, like he hadn't done since I was a little girl.

A block from my parents' home, three fiery explosions went _'kaboom'_, one right after the other. Mrs. Lupinski's Toyota Camry was first, followed by the Mutchniks' minivan and the Ludlows' old Pontiac sedan.

"What the hell is that about?" I asked, choking back a sob. The ringing in my ears was so loud, I almost didn't hear my father's response.

"Предупреждение," my father said softly. _A warning._


	6. Chapter Six: Batman Returns

_**A/N: Hugs to Dog in the Manger for her patience and her outstanding beta skills. **_

_Here's the thing about car bombs: There's a flash of light and then a boom. Aside from the flying debris, the worst part is the heat and smoke… thick, grey black smoke from burning upholstery and rubber tires. It smells really bad and it makes it hard to breathe._

We were far enough away that debris wasn't a problem, but almost immediately, I felt my eyes start to burn and water, and then there was the familiar tightening in my chest.

My dad unzipped my RangeMan windbreaker and adjusted it so that the fabric covered my nose and mouth.

"Inside," he said to Lester with a jerk of his head. "Take Steph through the house and out the back door. Tell your team in the alley that you need to trade vehicles." Although his voice was calm and measured, it was clear to all of us that he was giving an order. We heard the distant wail of sirens just before he added, "The cavalry will be here soon. I think it's best that no one sees you leave."

Hector nodded grimly as Lester replied, "Yes sir."

Before he handed me over to my Merry bodyguards, my dad kissed the top of my head. "Be smart, Pumpkin. No unnecessary risks, OK?" Then he reached out and touched Lester's shoulder.

"Don't worry about me, son. I can handle the TPD." At that moment, my dad no longer looked worried. I thought I caught a ghost of a smile on his face or, in truth, maybe it was more of a smirk. Just before the screen door banged shut, we heard him say. "After all, if I need a distraction, I have Edna."

We'd only gone about a half a mile, when the apple pie that had been sitting in my stomach like lead decided to make another appearance. Fortunately, there was a 7-Eleven nearby. Lester held my hair back as I threw up my dinner in the parking lot, and Hector slipped into the store to buy some ginger ale and Wet Wipes so that I could clean my face and hands. Almost immediately, two black Explorers pulled in behind us and flashed their lights. I guess our backup had arrived.

"Two teams?" I croaked out, as Lester pressed a cool, damp cloth against the back of my neck. The vomiting had given way to dry heaves, leaving my throat dry and scratchy. "Is that really necessary?"

He shrugged, indicating that it was no big deal. "Standard Operating Procedure in case we pick up a tail… it's harder to follow three vehicles."

"It's like we have a freakin' motorcade!"

"Hey, nothing but the best for you, Beautiful. After all, it works for the President."

I knew he was teasing me a little, trying to make me smile. But when I processed what he had said, I couldn't do much but stare at him, open-mouthed.

Lester cupped my chin with one hand, while he rubbed my back softly with the other. "The Secret Service usually handles those duties, but, yeah, we've been asked to play a few times in the past."

Not really knowing what to say to _that,_ I chewed on my lip for a moment before I finally asked, "Is there anyone left at RangeMan?"

"Emergency crews in place. All time off cancelled and a team is in route from Miami. Ranger and Tank will bring two teams from Boston, when they return tonight."

Lester lifted me onto the back seat of the Explorer and, following what had become our pattern for the day, he settled in beside me.

"You can sit up front with Hector. I'm fine!" I protested.

"Quédate," Hector said firmly. _Stay._

I figured Hector must have been talking to Lester since I don't speak Spanish, but I certainly got the idea that Lester wasn't going anywhere.

"No te preocupes, hermano," Lester answered before he turned to me and said, "You think I'd pass up a chance to hold you without Ranger threatening to take me to the mats? Not a chance!"

"I don't suppose you want to tell me where we're going?" I asked as I settled myself in Lester's arms.

"You like it, Chica. I promise," Hector answered from the driver's seat.

"Is it a safe guess that we're not going shopping?" I asked as the Explorer headed north on U.S. 1 and in the direction of Quakerbridge Mall. My chauffeur just smiled and Lester hugged me a little more tightly.

The last thing I remember was seeing a sign for 287 North towards Morristown. I woke up when the car slowed and the ride became bumpy, as if we were driving over cobblestones. In the darkness and only half awake, my brain registered quick impressions more than anything else. A long, narrow, tree-lined driveway. A rambling, three-story stone house with a slate roof. A large wooden door framed by a portico with limestone columns. I was most surprised by the turrets. Four of them stood out in stark relief against a moonlit sky.

"This is Pennsylvania?" I asked groggily, as Hector opened the car door and pulled me into his arms." _It looked more like France… at least, what I imagined a castle in France would look like._

"You are safe, Angel. Duermes. _Sleep_," he said.

I dreamt of fire. Not the crazy, blue hot blaze from a car explosion, but something softer and almost comforting… something that smelled like cedar and made me feel warm and happy.

Well, maybe_ 'the happy'_ had more to do with the tingle at the base of my neck. When my eyes popped open, I was stretched out on a leather couch between Hector and Lester. We were in a dark room lined with bookshelves and I could just make out a vaulted ceiling lined with dark intricately carved beams. The fire in the fireplace provided the only illumination in the room, casting soft shadows around everything.

Ranger was standing in front of the fireplace, one hand on the ornate, limestone mantel. His suit jacket was missing and his crisp white dress shirt was open at the neck, his necktie loose. I noticed a hint of a beard at his jaw… not something that I saw very often. The flames behind him created a sort of halo effect, making him look a bit like an angel. A dark, dangerous, _delicious _avenging angel, but an angel nonetheless.

He didn't say a word to me but simply reached out his hands to pull me up off the couch as he flashed me his two hundred-watt grin. He did speak to Hector and Lester though.

"All right, gentlemen, you're done for now. I'll take the next shift."

I grasped Ranger's hands and swung my feet off Lester's lap. Les stretched and moved to stand up with me, wrapping his arms around my waist and briefly dropping his head to my shoulder.

"It's been fun, Beautiful. We'll have to do this again sometime."

"Enough, Santos," Ranger growled softly. "Say goodnight."

"It's so late," I protested with a yawn. "Les, you're not driving back to Trenton tonight, are you?"

"No worries, Beautiful." He planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek before releasing me. "Hector and I will stay in our usual rooms tonight."

"You each have your own room here? Where are we?" I turned to Hector, thinking he might be the one most willing to answer my questions, but Les was feeling talkative."

"My room is in the east wing. Hector prefers a little more privacy so he takes one of the bedrooms over the stable."

"A stable? Like for animals?"

"Think horsepower rather than horses, Babe," Ranger interjected. "The stable's been converted into a garage with a couple of apartments on the second floor. I'll give you the tour tomorrow, but now it's past your bedtime."

"Just how big is this house?" I demanded as Ranger wrapped one arm around my waist and propelled me toward the door. "So where am I going to sleep? Do I have my own room too?"

"You have a place here. Ready to go upstairs?"

When were almost out of the room, when I heard Hector whisper, "Dulces sueños, chica." _Sweet dreams._


	7. Chapter Seven: Let's Make Another Deal

_**A/N: Dear readers, today is my birthday. I decided the best way to celebrate is to spend a little happy time with Steph and Ranger… and you. There's no cake in the chapter, but hopefully, parts of it are sweet enough.**_

_**Many thanks to Dog in the Manger, the very talented beta for this story.**_

With a final, brief nod at the Merry Men, Ranger led me out of the room and down a short hallway into a spacious, two-story foyer.

"What is this place?" I asked with wonder, staring at the curving marble staircase with the elaborate, black wrought iron railing.

"If Haywood is RangeMan-City, you could think of this as RangeMan-Country."

"This looks more like Wayne Manor than RangeMan," I grumbled as we began to ascend the stairs.

"Not hardly, Babe." Ranger's face looked serious, but his eyes told me he was thinking about smiling. "Wayne Manor is near Gotham. We're much closer to New York City."

"Ranger." I stopped and looked at him, my hands on my hips. I was determined to get some answers when a thought flashed into my mind that had me feeling less confident. _Had Hector and Lester brought me to the Bat Cave? How was Ranger going to feel about that?_

"This is one of the places I own," Ranger admitted, his ESP clearly tuned to the Stephanie channel tonight. "But these days, I spend more time at Haywood than I do anywhere else. I bought a house in Miami, where I intended to live, but every time I'm away from Trenton for more than a few days, I get homesick for this crazy brunette that I know."

"So this isn't the Bat Cave?" I croaked out as Ranger tugged on one of my curls playfully. I was suddenly feeling happy and self-conscious all at the same time.

"You may have noticed that this place wouldn't make for an easy, daily commute. But I like being out in the country just as much as you like being at the beach. This place serves as a bit of a retreat for me and it's big enough that…" He hesitated, as if deciding how much to say. "If there's a disaster in the city and we needed to vacate, I could move RangeMan here along with most of my family."

Ranger had just said more words to me than he sometimes said in a whole week, yet at the moment, I could only focus on two of them: _a disaster._

"Like a hurricane, Babe." He wrapped his arm around my waist and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Or a crazy Russian crime family," I muttered morosely.

At the end of another long hallway, Ranger pulled me into what turned out to be a suite of rooms. The first room appeared to be a study. Thick Turkish carpets covered polished floors of dark wood and just like downstairs, a fire burned brightly in the fireplace. In the shadows created by the dancing flames, I could just make out several couches covered in black suede, and in the corner of the room, a massive desk.

The adjacent bedroom took my breath away. One of the room's stone walls curved outward, making me think we were in one of the turrets I had seen, when we had pulled up to the house earlier in the evening. A large picture window unobstructed by blinds or curtains seemed to frame the inky night sky and a full orange-yellow moon. There were curtains on the bed though… dark grey curtains at the corners of a massive four-poster canopy bed dressed with cream-colored linens and maybe a zillion pillows.

"This is my room?" I asked incredulously.

I didn't quite get the look that passed across Ranger's face. Surprise? Amusement? He recovered quickly though, dropping a kiss to the top of my head and aiming a friendly pat at my ass.

"I need a shower before bed. If you want something to sleep in, there are pajamas in the dresser on your side of the dressing room, just like at Haywood." He looked a little smug. "If you prefer to sleep in one of my t-shirts, you can probably figure out where those are."

Ranger disappeared into the bathroom; and I opened the door to a dressing room that was larger than my bedroom at home. Instinctively, I went to the chest on the right. Not entirely unexpectedly, I found bras and panties in the top drawer. Although some of them were black, they weren't like the cotton underwear embroidered with the RangeMan logo that Ella stocked for me at Haywood. They were sheer and lacy... and sexy. When I yanked open the second drawer, I found assorted cotton pajama sets along with a short nightgown in copper-colored silk. I rubbed the luxurious fabric against my cheek and moaned a little, trying not to imagine the contrast between the rich color of the nightgown and the creamy sheets.

As I heard the shower cut off, I made a snap decision. Shoving the silk nightgown back in the drawer, I pulled on a fitted camisole made of black lace and an ivory thong. I scrambled to the center of the bed and kneeling, I placed my hands, palms together, in front of my heart. When Ranger came out of the bedroom, clad only in white towel wrapped at his waist, I caught his eye and bowed my head. "Namaste," I said simply.

Ranger's eyes darkened, as he dropped the towel and stalked toward the bed. Before I knew what was happening, I was flat on my back and he was hovering over me. "What did you say?"

"Namaste," I whispered huskily, squirming beneath him.

"Do you know what _Namaste_ means, Stephanie?

"It's what we say at the beginning and end of yoga class," I whispered breathlessly. "It's a greeting, sort of like 'aloha.'"

Ranger sighed and dropped his forehead to mine. "Not exactly, Babe."

He rolled me to me side and pulled me close to him, my back to his front. He tucked my hair out of the way and pressed a sweet kiss to the back of my neck. I pushed my body tightly against his and squirmed a little bit, letting him know that I was just as ready for this as he seemed to be.

He planted one more kiss on my neck and then, surprising the heck out of me, he shifted his body, putting a tiny bit of space between us. "Sleep," he said.

Now, normally, I wouldn't think that pushing my backside against a naked, aroused Ranger was a particularly good idea. After all, I wouldn't want to give him any ideas that I had changed my feelings about butt stuff. Tonight though, I seemed to be feeling especially brave, or maybe especially stupid, because I scooted backwards again. "But I'm not tired. I had a long nap before you got home."

Ranger groaned softly and moved his hand to my hip to still the movements I was making. "Please, Babe. You need to rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

The numbers on the clock on the bedside table glowed red in the darkness. It was 1:12, meaning that we had a long day ahead of us _today_… but I couldn't seem to help myself, even though Ranger played the 'please' card. I twisted in his arms so that we were face to face. "But I behaved myself today. I stayed out of trouble and did everything you asked!" So I was whining. I'd had a hard day.

Ranger responded with a bark of laughter and a two hundred watt grin. "Five cars destroyed, Pino's nearly burned down and Lester had to be treated in the ER."

"None of that was my fault!" Suddenly, I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek and Ranger's smile disappeared.

"Hey, Babe. None of that." He used his thumb to wipe my cheek and brushed his lips gently against mine. "You did good today, you know that?"

"Good enough to get a reward?" I let my fingers trace a path down Ranger's smooth jaw, noting that he'd taken the time to shave before coming to bed.

"Querida, you have a contused elbow and at least a mild concussion. You haven't kept any food down today and if we didn't have this situation, you'd be in the ER getting IV fluids. Bobby made it clear to me that you haven't been cleared for any activity tonight except sleep."

"But you promised!" At that, I was treated to Ranger's blank face. Not the blank 'never let them see you emotions face.' It was the 'I have no idea what in the hell you're talking about face.'

"In the alley this morning," I reminded him. "At least, I'm pretty sure there was an _implied_ promise there."

I studied Ranger's face, watching for the flash of understanding in his eyes. I didn't have to wait long.

"Have I ever lied to you, Stephanie? Have I ever failed to keep a promise to you?" He cupped my face in both of his hands, not allowing me to look away. I guess he was looking for the answer in my eyes because I couldn't seem to get the words out. Suddenly, what he had once said to me about 'someday' popped into my head and I saw his eyes darken, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Babe, I may not be able to deliver on the timetable that you and I would like, but I will always, _always_ keep my promises to you."

I nodded silently at him, finally opting to close my eyes to escape from the intensity of his gaze. That's when he sighed.

"Tell you what. Let's make a deal. You roll over on your stomach and let me rub your back. If you're still awake in fifteen minutes, we'll re-negotiate."

"That works for me," I told him. _After this long, what was fifteen more minutes?_ "I can wait that long… no problem. "

Of course, Ranger was right. I fell asleep. I awoke in his bed hours later, dressed in one of his black t-shirts and the ivory thong that had seemed like such a good idea last night. From the light streaming in the bedroom window, it was afternoon. Surprisingly, given the hour, I wasn't alone. My face was squashed into a pillow that smelled intoxicatingly of Bulgari and Ranger. From the haze of sleep, I felt feather-light kisses on the back of my neck, and soft caresses all the way down my spine. Capable fingers began to work their magic... God, I had been waiting for this for soo long. "Carlos," I moaned into the pillow.

Suddenly, it wasn't just the two of us in the bedroom. "Little Girl," I heard Tank say. "Little Girl, I need -"

"Go away, Tank," I mumbled. "We're busy." _As fond as I was of the Merry Men, especially Tank, I wasn't into…_

"Stephanie." Tank's voice sounded strangled, but more insistent. "Steph, I need you to wake up **now**."

That startled me awake and I yanked the comforter over my head to give me time to sort out what was real and what was just a part of the nicest dream I've had in long time. The thousand-thread count sheets confirmed that I was indeed in Ranger's bed. Yep, sometime during the night I had acquired one of Ranger's t-shirts and I was wearing very damp ivory panties. Sadly, Ranger and his capable fingers were no were to be found. Time to face the music.

I rolled to my back and sat up, pulling the sheet to my chin. "Tank, what the hell are you doing in Ranger's bedroom?"

"Steph, it's time for you to get out bed and get dressed. You need to eat something and we have a debriefing in the library in thirty." Like always, Tank was cool and professional. At my blank stare, he simply responded. "The library is on the first floor… maybe you saw it last night? I'll take you there when you're dressed."

"Um, Tank, how long were you standing there?"

The big man cracked a smile. "A few minutes. That was some dream you were having. I was afraid to get any closer."

I flung the Bulgari scented pillow at him, but he ducked and the pillow hit the doorframe.

He chuckled. "Just for the record, Little Girl, Ranger's not into sharing either… not that there wouldn't be a line of RangeMen if you two changed your minds."

_Damn. I guess I talk in my sleep_. "Ranger and I do not have that kind of relationship, Tank," I answered as primly as I could. _At least not yet, we don't. But it wasn't for my lack of trying last night._

"Uh, yeah. Right, Bombshell." Tank rubbed his bald head and sighed. "But I still need you to climb out of _Carlos'_ bed, and come downstairs to the debriefing.. You need to take off _Carlos'_ t shirt and get dressed in something from _your side_ of _Carlos'_ closest."

Great, now he was being a smart ass. Although, it was apparently late afternoon, it was too early for this; but he wasn't finished.

"And while you do that, I'll go inform the rest of the Justice League that Batman and Wonder Woman have both been kidnapped by the King and Queen of Denial."

I wasn't even going to acknowledge that one. "Tank, where is Ranger?"

"He was called out. He'll be back as soon as he can."

"Like back in time for dinner, or back in time for Christmas?"

Tank shrugged a little and held up his hands. "Steph, you know how this works. He hoped to be back before you woke up. Hopefully he'll be back by the time we get downstairs."

I snaked an arm out from under the blanket and reached for my cell phone on the bedside table. I hit the first number on my speed dial and I wish I could say that I was surprised, when it went straight to voice mail. "I thought he was supposed to be guarding my body," I grumbled.

"He was on duty until four am and then I took over… being your bodyguard, I mean." If I didn't know better, I would say that Tank was blushing. I'm guessing that I acquired a little more clothing about the time that he took over for Ranger. Interestingly, embarrassment seemed to loosen his tongue a little bit. "Ranger had to go back to Trenton. There was a house fire and arson was suspected—"

"Omigod, Tank. Was it at a RangeMan account?"

I had two feet on the floor and was headed for the bathroom, when his words registered.

"Not exactly, Little Girl. It was Morelli's house."


	8. Chapter 8: Bad Company

A/N: Thanks to all of you for reading and especially for sharing your thoughts about this story. As usual, Dog in the Manger deserves a hand for her part in this chapter.

As my brain processed Tank's words, I felt the room begin to spin and reached out for something, anything, to steady myself. I felt his hand at my waist and he eased me back until I was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Whoa, there, Little Girl. Not so fast."

"Is he…?" I let my voice trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

"No casualties. But we'll know more, when Ranger returns, OK?"

Tank placed a small, delicate green bowl filled with steaming liquid in my hands. "Hold this with two hands and sip," he said.

I sniffed at the liquid suspiciously. "I don't drink tea."

"Good thing it's _tisane_ made with ginger and lemongrass and not really tea then."

I wanted to giggle when I heard a delicate word like 'tisane' come out of a big man like Tank. I still wasn't sure I wanted to drink the fragrant liquid in bowl.

"Go ahead, drink," Tank urged. "It's actually delicious and it'll settle your stomach. Kee made it."

I took a tentative sip. "Kee? Is she like Ella for RangeMan-Country?"

For a moment, Tank look puzzled. Maybe it was the RangeMan-Country reference. I thought he was going to ask me about it, but then he apparently changed his mind and threw back his head, laughing until I thought I saw a tear ready to run down his cheek.

"He's right, you know, Little Girl? You never disappoint." Tank pulled himself together just as I started feeling really, really annoyed at being entertainment once again. "Kee is not at all like Ella. _He's_ the caretaker here." Tank paused and looked pointed at the bowl in my hands. "You need to finish that, take a quick shower, and get dressed. Then we'll go downstairs and you can meet him."

As much as I was looking forward to meeting the mysterious Kee, I got distracted by the seemingly unlimited supply of hot water and the multiple showerheads in the huge glass block shower.

When I finally stepped out of the shower and put my feet on the heated slate floor, I realized that Hector and Lester had never answered me when I asked if we were in Pennsylvania. At the moment, this place seemed a whole lot more like heaven, than Pennsylvania.

I wrapped one fluffy white towel around my body and another around my head, before I cautiously opened the door and called out to Tank. I hadn't thought to bring fresh clothes into the bathroom with me, and while Tank had already seen me nearly naked once this morning, it hadn't been a particularly comfortable experience for either of us.

I was contemplating a mad dash to the dressing room when I noticed that although the bedroom was empty, someone had made the bed and laid out clothes for me… clothes that were suspiciously devoid of the RangeMan logo.

"What the hell, Tank!"

"I'm in the study," he hollered back. "I figured if you went into that dressing room this morning, we might never get you out." After a moment of silence he added, "Kee picked out some clothes for you… please tell me you can dress yourself."

"Stay where you are," I warned, as I dropped the towel and pulled on the lacy white panties and bra that had been chosen for me. The tailored black capri pants fit perfectly, as did the white cotton wrap shirt. I tied the shirt's sash around my waist and stepped into the black patent leather ballet flats, before I returned to the bathroom to hang up the towels and run some gel through my damp hair. When I walked back into the bedroom, Tank was waiting for me.

As we entered the library, I saw two familiar figures in front of the fireplace. Without thinking, I flew across the room and flung myself at one of them.

"Joe! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Cupcake. I wasn't at home, when the fire started."

"I am so, so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't brought in Igor, none of this would have happened. I never meant to put you and everyone else I care about in danger."

As I sobbed, I felt Joe stiffen slightly, as he patted my back awkwardly. I figured it was the tears. Everybody knew I was a messy crier. I had probably soaked his shirt and snot was soon to follow.

"Tell her the truth, Morelli." I heard Ranger's deep voice behind me and I turned to look at him, taking a step away from Joe.

I wasn't surprised at his "blank face." After all, I had just wrapped myself around my ex-boyfriend. I wasn't prepared for the look of sadness that flashed briefly in his eyes.

"Joe?" I saw him glance at Ranger and swallow nervously… and that's when I took another step back.

Joe cleared his throat. "Do you remember a few months ago, when I told you I had an undercover job in Philadelphia?"

I nodded hesitantly and tried to ignore the warning signals I was getting. My Spidey sense was going crazy.

"Well, I wasn't exactly truthful with you, Cupcake." Joe coughed a little and averted his eyes. "The truth is, Terry had invited me to spend the week with her in Miami… you know, like a vacation."

"Terry invited you to go to Miami?" When I said the words out loud, it sounded as if I was having trouble understanding what he was telling me, but my sinking heart understood all too well. "But Joe, we weren't in an 'off' phase then."

"Yeah, but we weren't exactly in an 'on' phase either." He shrugged. "I mean, you had gone back to work at RangeMan part-time and your infatuation with Manoso wasn't a secret."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I took yet another step away from Joe, my eyes narrowed, hands on my hips.

"Come on, Cupcake. I made no secret of wanting to settle down and make babies with you. But I knew you still had a few wild oats to sow."

"Oats? Honestly?" I turned to Ranger, trying to ignore that my voice was sounding a little shrill. "Honestly, are you just going to stand that and let him refer to you as _oats_?"

"Babe."

Joe ran his fingers though his hair like he always did, when I was making him crazy. I could see when Joe had a thought and suddenly he looked a little hopeful. "Hey, what's the thing the Amish kids do? Run… rumsomething…"

"Rumspringa," supplied Tank helpfully. It was then that I noticed him, sprawled out in an oversized armchair in the corner of the room.

"Yeah, that. You know, when they have to get the wildness out of their systems, before they settle down and do what their families expect them to do?"

"You thought Ranger was my Rumspringa? Something I had to get out of my system?"

"Well, I mean… I was hoping that you wouldn't actually sleep with him, but if you did, I thought it would only take once. You would be scared shitless and his curiosity would finally be satisfied… then we could all go on with our lives."

Momentarily speechless, I sank down on the leather couch, where I had found myself with Lester and Hector earlier this morning, curled my feet up under me and stared at Joe.

"No way could once could ever be enough, Babe," Ranger murmured in my ear, as he moved to stand behind the couch and started to massage my shoulders.

"But I thought if you _were_ going to sleep with Ranger, it only seemed fair that I have a little fun while I was waiting on you." Joe was beginning to sound a little defensive.

"You thought I was going to sleep with Ranger, so you thought it would be OK if you slept with Terry? You think that's an acceptable kind of relationship?" I was quickly approaching rhino mode.

"Breathe, Babe," Ranger whispered in my ear while increasing the pressure of his ministrations on my back and neck.

"As long as we weren't exactly '_on again'_ I thought it would be OK." Joe shrugged a little, as if his explanation made all the sense in the world "So Terry had booked us a room at a hotel called the Delano-"

"The Delano in South Beach?" I smirked. Although I had never been to Miami, even this Jersey girl knew all about the Delano. "That's not exactly your style, Joe." Joe's style was more like Courtyard by Marriott… at the airport.

For the first time since I had entered the library this morning, Ranger looked like he was thinking about smiling. I'm guessing I had said that last part out loud… again.

Joe grimaced as he paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Shit, Cupcake. I guess I deserved that, but this is hard."

"Go on," I waved a hand at him to continue.

"I… I mean, she…" Joe seemed to be struggling to find the right words to tell me what he needed to tell me… or at least what Ranger thought he needed to tell me.

"She needs to know what happened," Ranger said, his voice expressionless. "Finish the story."

"Feel free to leave out the parts where the two of you were naked. I don't really need those details."

Joe sighed. "Terry's developed quite a problem with cocaine. She was completely wasted within an hour of us arriving at the hotel. She really wanted me to do it with her, but I'm not into that shit. It could cost me my job…" His voice trailed off.

"And?"

"And we argued, she became furious with me and threw me out of the room. I went down to the hotel bar to have a beer while I figured out what to do. "

"Like get on the next plane for Trenton?"

" Yeah, in retrospect, that would have been the best choice. But, I guess, at the time, I was hoping that she would sleep it off and we could still, um, have a nice vacation." Joe rubbed his hand across his jaw briefly and studied me, as if gauging my reaction before he continued. "So, I sat in the bar and had a couple of beers. Then I went back upstairs to check on Terry and that's when I figured out that my key to the room didn't work."

"Demagnetized?"

"I thought so. So I went to the front desk to get a replacement key but they wouldn't give me one because Terry didn't add my name to the reservation."

"Didn't that tell you something, Joe? What did you do next?" Part of me really didn't want to know what he had done next, but Ranger seemed to think it was important that I hear the story, no matter how painful. A moment later, I felt Ranger's warm breath on my neck as he whispered, "Proud of you, Babe."

Joe shrugged. "What could I do? I went back to the bar. I was having another beer when these two women approached me."

"Let me guess. They were middle-aged and matronly and they were looking for their husbands?"

Joe's eyes darkened as he remembered and he gave a curt laugh. "Not hardly. One was a blond, one a redhead. Beautiful girls… both with legs a mile long. There was something about them that made them seem exotic… the accent maybe."

"Accent? Russian?" Suddenly, I was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that maybe yesterday's events_ weren't_ all my fault."

"At the time, I was thinking Eastern European. From what I know now, that was probably right. They were most likely Latvian or Estonian. "

"And?" I wiggled my fingers at him, motioning for him to go on with the story.

"They wanted me to buy them each a drink." When Joe saw the face I made, he tried to explain. "Hey, I had some time to kill and a drink or two seemed harmless enough. Most men would have done exactly the same thing, when approached by two smoking hot women in a bar on Saturday night."

"Morelli," Ranger warned, his voice low and menacing. I'm pretty sure he was telling Joe to knock it off with the details about the women. I was also hoping that that he was telling _me_ that _he_ wouldn't have done the same thing.

"You were already half-drunk and you were hoping to get lucky!"

"Honestly, it just started out as a couple of drinks. Then they asked me to go clubbing with them, and that's where the details get a little fuzzy. I remember walking out of the hotel. There were some regular cabs out front, but I'm pretty sure we got into a black sedan with a driver. One of the girls mentioned a place called Torpeda Bar."

"And?"

"They must have slipped something into my drink because that's all I remember until Monday morning. A couple of Ranger's guys found me sleeping in a beach chair near the Fontainebleau."

I hadn't noticed when Lester and Hector had entered the room and so I was startled, hearing Lester's voice.

"That spot's become a popular dumping point for these girls. A couple of their prior marks had been left in the exact same place and so we had been doing some surveillance."

Now, obviously, I knew Lester had been in the army with Ranger, Tank, and Bobby. I just had a hard time imagining my happy-go-lucky friend as a soldier. Spy? No problem. James Bond-like assassin who charmed the enemy to death? Absolutely. Soldier? Not so much. That changed yesterday, when I saw Lester with my dad. Now, Military Lester was back and he was all business, but there was an edge to his voice that wasn't there yesterday.

"Marks? What do you mean exactly?" I glanced at Lester, then Joe. When neither answered, I twisted on the couch so that I could see Ranger. "I'm pretty sure that I deserve an explanation."

Joe cleared his throat again and finally spoke. "The first thing I did when the guys took me to RangeMan Miami was recharge my dead cell phone. I had a bunch of messages-"

When his voice trailed off, I realized that one of those messages was probably from me. I had left a message on his cell telling him that I hoped he would stay safe on his undercover assignment and wouldn't be gone too long.

"There were a bunch of messages from American Express," Joe said firmly. "They were trying to verify nearly $30,000 worth of charges that had been made with my card over the last couple of days."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I couldn't seem to do anything except stare at him.

"Two thousand dollar bottles of champagne, thousand dollar tins of caviar, a few pieces of very expensive jewelry from a hotel gift shop," Joe recited morosely.

I finally found my voice. "I can't believe it," I murmured.

"You can believe it. There _are _actually $2,000 bottles of champagne."

"That's not it. What I can't believe is that you actually have a $30,000 credit limit on your card."

I'm pretty sure the snort of laughter came from Lester, but it was Tank who spoke.

"These bar girls—b girls for short— usually target a particular type. They're looking for affluent businessmen sitting alone in a bar… an expensive suit or a Rolex means the guy probably has a credit limit high enough to make it worthwhile. Once he's hooked, they take him back to a bar run by the Russian mob. While the girls flirt and pretend to drink or do drugs with the guy, the bar runs outrageous charges on his credit card."

"Why Joe?" I asked softly. I looked at each of the men in the room, wondering who would answer me.

"We wondered the same thing at first," Tank admitted. "He certainly doesn't fit the profile. These girls also seem to prefer married men as they're much easier to blackmail…" Tank looked at me apologetically.

"Did you sleep with those girls, Joe?"

"I don't remember." Joe cleared his throat. "But there were photographs in my mailbox when I arrived home that suggest that I did."

"Terry set you up," I said, the pieces falling into place. I got a slow nod of acknowledgement in return from Joe, and Ranger tightened his grip on my shoulders for a moment. That was Ranger-speak for _Got it in one, Babe._

"And now Bratva is blackmailing you. They want more money?"

Joe shook his head at me. "They want to ramp up Ecstasy production in Trenton to meet the demand in their southern markets and they want the PD to look the other way." He glanced at Ranger, before he continued. "But don't worry, Cupcake. I was just pretending to go along with it. When the first demands arrived, Ranger convinced me to go to the chief and confess everything. I'm cooperating with the FBI and I'll testify if I need to."

As Joe finished his story, we sat in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room an occasional pop from the burning logs in the fireplace.

"Is there more?" I asked softly.

"That's pretty much the worst of it," he answered.

"Lemme make sure I understand," I said slowly, facing Joe. "You went to Miami to screw around with Terry Grizzoli, but you managed to get yourself temporarily kidnapped by the Russian mob." He nodded back at me morosely.

"They drugged you, scammed you out of a lot of money, and then tried to blackmail you, but Ranger hooked you up with the FBI." When I turned and looked at Ranger, he gave me an almost imperceptible nod.

"It's possible… no it seems _likely_ that they have figured out that you're not playing their game and you and those close to you have become targets."

I heard my voice become louder and a tad more shrill, but I couldn't control it. It was as if it belonged to somebody else. I narrowed my eyes at Hector and Lester who were standing at parade rest near the door. "And not one of those car explosions yesterday had anything to do with my job as a bounty hunter or the fact that I brought in Igor Slossberg!"

Once again, the room fell silent except for the thundering of my heart. It was so loud, I wondered if everyone else in the room could hear it too. But the five pairs of eyes just watched me, waiting, giving nothing away.

"Say something," Joe finally pleaded, as Ranger continued to gently massage my shoulders.

I uncurled my feet from under me and moved to stand up.

"I need some fresh air and some time to think," I said, taking a few steps away from the couch. "I think I really, really need a doughnut."

There was a small smile on Joe's face as he held up a small white bakery bag. "I figured you might, so I brought you something from the Tasty Pastry."

"Hand it over," I demanded. "But just so we're clear, this doesn't make up for anything that you did."

"I didn't expect that it would," Joe sighed. Nevertheless, he looked somewhat relieved as he passed me the bag.

I saw Ranger move, as if he planned to intercept my doughnuts. "Babe, I don't think so much sugar is a good idea right now. Let me make you an omelet, or some scrambled eggs and toast."

I clutched the bag to my chest protectively. If Ranger really wanted to deprive me of my baked goods he was more than capable, but I wasn't giving in without a fight.

"I know, Ranger. I know. These Boston Crèmes are going to kill me. But the truth is, I could have died a couple of times yesterday and it had nothing to do with doughnuts. Today, I think I'm going to live dangerously and take my chances with the sugar."

I fished a Boston Crème out of the bag and took a large bite. "Oh my God," I moaned, "I so needed this." I chewed slowly, savoring the tastes of chocolate icing and vanilla custard. It wasn't until the second bite, when I felt it: my head was pounding, my heart was racing, and I had an overwhelming feeling of impending doom. I spied a desk in a far corner of the room and hoped Ranger kept a waste paper basket by its side because I needed to get rid of this doughnut. I also really needed to throw up.

And then everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9: Losing Control

A/N: Thanks to Dog in the Manger for her guidance and excellent beta skills. All mistakes are mine.

I struggled back to consciousness, wrapped in familiar arms.

"Shhh, chica. Don't worry. I got you," Hector murmured as he stroked my hair.

"Ranger," I moaned, "where's Ranger?"

"I'm here, Babe." His voice was soft and soothing, and it sounded as if he wasn't too far away.

"I'm here too, Cupcake."

I managed to pry open one eye. Before the room began to spin, I gathered that Hector was seated on one of the leather couches in front of the fireplace in the library, cradling me on his lap. Ranger sat at one end of the couch opposite Hector and me, blood soaking through white gauze, which was wrapped around the knuckles of his right hand. Joe was at the other end of the couch, his right eye swollen shut, the surrounding skin purple. He held an icepack to a split, bruised lip. If I didn't know better, I would say they looked like two little boys in time out.

"Ranger," I whimpered again. Before I squeezed my eye shut again to combat the dizziness, I saw him standing up, intent on coming to my side.

Almost immediately, I heard another voice. "Stay," the voice demanded.

Instinctively, I turned my head, looking for the source of the voice and precipitating a lightning bolt of pain in my head. Surprisingly, Ranger sat back down, shooting me an apologetic look, and I found myself staring into an unfamiliar pair of black eyes. I was face to face with a bald Asian man of indeterminate age, although I guessed him to be at least a decade younger than my father. He was short but well muscled… definitely RangeMan material. And at the moment, he appeared to be in charge.

"Stephanie, I am Kee," he said kindly. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts," I answered with a wince, rubbing at the ache at the base of my skull. "What the heck happened to me?"

"What do you remember?" he asked.

I closed my eyes again, searching for an answer to his question. Hector tightened his arms around me, and for a few precious moments, I felt safe and happy. I remembered being in the alley, Ranger's body pressed up against mine, soft kisses as whispers in my ear. I remembered my mom made apple pie with caramel sauce as she did every fall, and my dad hugged me as he hadn't in a very long time. I remembered spending time with Hector and Lester, realizing they had become two of my best friends. Lester had even held my hair back while I vomited, just as Mary Lou had done in college after I'd had too much to drink…

Thinking about vomiting brought a fresh wave of nausea and a veritable tidal wave of memories. My car exploding, Joe's Jeep exploding. My dad muttering in Russian as the neighbors' cars exploded. Joe's betrayal. Bratva bent on revenge.

My train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a horrible sound. To the casual listener, it might have sounded like wailing. I knew it was actually the sound made by the base of my food pyramid, shattering into a million pieces.

"The Boston Crèmes Joe brought me," I sobbed. "I was poisoned, wasn't I?"

"Cupcake, I had no—" Joe began.

"I told you the doughnuts were a bad idea," Ranger interrupted.

"Not now," Kee said sternly. "We have other priorities."

"But really, I—" Joe protested.

"Be quiet!" I heard the authority in the older man's voice. "You _will _both sit on that couch until you learn to control yourselves. I suspect _you_ may be sitting there a while." I didn't really need to open my eyes to know that he was looking straight at Joe. Then I heard a pause, and I imagined that his attention had shifted to Ranger. "You, I taught better."

Kee crouched beside me and laid one hand on my arm. "Stephanie, whatever was in that doughnut is going to take at least a few hours to work its way through your system. It would be good if you could drink something to help flush it through… can you do that?"

_Could I?_ My throat tightened and my stomach twisted painfully. I think my panicked expression, as I contemplated throwing up all over Hector, gave Kee his answer.

"I need to draw blood for a few tests, but you're dehydrated and could use some medicine to settle your stomach," he said. "With your permission, I'd like to start an IV to give you some fluids and some medicine for nausea. Would you let me to do that?"

"Please, Babe," I heard Ranger say.

As much as I hated needles, I felt powerless to resist Ranger when he played the 'please' card. I was also beginning to get the idea that requests from Kee were going to be difficult to refuse. I started to nod, but any movement of my head made the urge to vomit more intense. "OK," I offered weakly, relaxing a little in Hector's arms.

"I'm also going to put a few stitches in this laceration, but I'll give you some numbing medicine first." Kee's fingers gently probed the skin behind my right ear, and I winced.

"You hit your head on the desk when you fainted," he said in response to my unspoken question.

"You won't shave my head before you sew me up, will you?"

"Of course, not," the bald man answered, his voice gentle as he rubbed my arm, his touch light. "There is a small infirmary adjacent to my quarters. It might be best if—"

"My bed," I said. "I just want to go upstairs and lie down in my bed. Can I do that?" I made no attempt to keep the pleading out of my tone.

"I'm not sure—" Kee started to say.

"But I am," Ranger said firmly. His two hundred watt smile was the last thing I saw before Hector carried me up the marble staircase to the room with the beautiful canopy bed.

~OoOo~

I awoke in a dark room, illuminated only by moonlight, cocooned in Egyptian cotton sheets and the softest duvet imaginable. And I wasn't alone. Ranger was seated on the bed, his back against the headboard, my head resting in his lap, my hand gripping his muscled thigh. I gave his leg a quick squeeze and instinctively, my hand began to creep upward.

"Whoa, Tiger," Ranger said, placing a hand over mine. "We have company."

I felt the mattress dip behind me just before I was enveloped in a full-body hug.

"How are you feeling, Beautiful?" Lester murmured into my ear. "I hated to leave before you woke up and knew you were OK. How's your head?"

"It feels different than usual, but it doesn't hurt." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, my hand flew to my head in a panic.

"Relax, Babe," Ranger said gently, his fingers tracing a sore spot on the back of my right hand where Kee must have placed and subsequently removed an IV. "Your curls are still there. We French braided your hair so it wouldn't be in the way when Kee stitched you up."

"We?" I questioned, knowing both of my eyebrows had shot up to my hairline in surprise.

"I have four sisters, and Kee is a man of many, unexpected talents."

I let go of the breath I was holding, sighing in relief. My life might be a total disaster, but I wasn't doomed to have bad hair for the next few months.

"Glad you've got your priorities straight." Ranger had switched on the lamp on the bedside table, and I could see the edges of his mouth tilt up in a smile.

"Did you go back to Trenton? Did you figure out what they used to poison me?" I asked Lester, turning to face him. We were nose to nose, and I could see concern in his green eyes. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and then sat up, his expression serious. Soldier Lester was back. Ranger scooped me up and seated me on his lap while Lester settled himself next to us, draping my legs over his own. Grabbing my bare right foot, he started a gentle massage.

"Seven people were taken to St. Francis this morning after eating Boston Crème doughnuts from the Tasty Pastry. All indicators point to sodium azide," he said finally. "It's an odorless, tasteless powder, which dissolves easily in water and apparently, vanilla custard. It takes effect immediately, and there's no real antidote."

"Great. The perfect poison," I offered. "How dangerous is it?"

I saw Lester hesitate and glance at Ranger before he answered me. When he spoke, his tone was grim. "In small doses, sodium azide usually causes vomiting, dizziness and fainting. Doses large enough to cause an abnormal heart beat and dangerously low blood pressure can be fatal."

As I processed Lester's words, the room started to spin, and I felt uncomfortably warm. All of a sudden, I began to wonder if my mother had been right all along. _Maybe, I should be more like Mona Scalzetti's daughter. I bet Elsa Scalzetti had never been poisoned by doughnuts. Elsa had a nice safe job as a librarian. She was probably going to live long enough to celebrate her next birthday—"_

"Slow, deep breaths, Babe," Ranger said, giving the back of my neck the same treatment that Lester was giving my foot. "You wouldn't last two hours at the library. Besides, you didn't get a large dose of sodium azide, and you vomited most of it before it could be absorbed. Kee says you're going to be fine." He buried his face in my curls, hugging me close to him. I almost got the feeling that he was reassuring both of us.

"There's a bright side to this, right?" I asked when I could find my voice. "Something bad like that must be pretty hard to come by. I'm thinking not too many people would have access to a poison like that."

Lester increased his pressure on the arch of my foot. "That's why I love you, Beautiful. You never fail to look for the bright side." Ranger's arms tightened around me possessively, and Lester chuckled. Then, he cleared his throat, and when I heard his next words, my heart fell. "Sodium azide is surprisingly common. It's the chemical found in automobile airbags and is also used in hospitals and laboratories as a preservative. Unfortunately, it's almost impossible to trace."

"Impossible to trace?" I repeated. "So we're not going to be able to catch the guy who did this to me?"

"Who gave you that idea, Little Girl?" I heard Tank's rumbling baritone a moment before I caught sight of him, filling the doorway between the bedroom and the study. "I thought you had more faith in us. Of course, we caught her."

"Her?"

Tank crossed the room in two strides and sank down on the bed with us. "Igor has been dating a counter girl at the Tasty Pastry. She had motive and access to the custard. We confronted her, and she confessed."

I waited in vain for the feeling of relief to wash over me. "Tell me she's Russian."

"Nah," said Tank, smirking a little. "I don't think so. According to her Massachusetts driver's license, her last name is O'Reilly."

"So the bad guys from Bratva are still out there, looking for me," I whispered.

Ranger tucked his thumb under my chin and forced me to look at him. "Don't worry, Babe. You're safe here."

I was going to argue. _Hell, I still didn't even know where "here" was. _But Ranger bent his head and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips before I could utter a single word of protest. He didn't seem concerned that Lester and Tank were still tucked around us on the bed and let his tongue slip into my mouth at the end. My low moan was interrupted by throat clearing, and I opened my eyes to see Kee standing at the foot of the bed. I felt myself blushing, and Ranger looked uncharacteristically sheepish.

"I thought we had discussed self control," Kee said to Ranger.

"It's not my fault," he muttered into my neck.

I wanted to roll my eyes, I really did, but I was pretty sure that was going to make my head hurt. Tank snorted, and Kee just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking again.

"I'm not certain leaving Hector in charge of Detective Morelli was the best choice," he said, presumably addressing Ranger. "Thus far, I have managed to forestall further bloodshed, but it's obvious that Hector's patience is wearing thin."

When Kee mentioned bloodshed, I glanced at Ranger's right hand. Several small adhesive bandages had replaced the bloody gauze over his knuckles.

"Hector's always been a little unpredictable," Ranger answered, alternately flexing and stretching his bandaged fingers.

"When's the last time Hector actually shot somebody?" I asked Lester. I probably should have been more concerned, but I was still a little shell-shocked from the kiss and Ranger's uncharacteristic semi-public display of affection. Truthfully, I was also trying to wrap my head around the unusual relationship he seemed to have with Kee.

"You mean somebody who didn't really deserve it?"

I thought I saw Kee struggling to suppress a smile before he fixed me with a serious look. "Stephanie, our guest has asked three times for an update on your condition and wishes to see you. The last time he asked, I told him truthfully that you were sleeping." Kee looked pointedly at Lester and Tank. "Perhaps now I need to tell him that you're awake, but there's absolutely no room in your bed for another man."

"Amen to that," Ranger said.


	10. Chapter Ten: Trouble in Paradise

_A/N: Hugs to Dog in the Manger for her work on this chapter. All mistakes are mine. I appreciate all of the feedback I have received about Kee. A bit more is revealed in this chapter._

A stern look from Kee sent Lester and Tank scrambling off the bed toward the adjoining study. Just before the door between the bedroom and the study banged shut behind them, I saw Tank deliver a friendly smack to the back of Lester's head.

"You're going to have to close the book on this one," I heard him say.

"Guess so," Lester agreed. "Honestly, I didn't think he'd get his head out of his ass before Christmas. I wonder, who had the first week of October?"

As the sound of the guys' voices faded away, Ranger rested his chin on top of my head. "Idiots," he said evenly, without a hint of malice.

"Did you know they were betting on you?" I twisted my head so that I could see his face, not pausing to categorize what I was feeling. Shock? Disbelief? _What have you done with my Ranger_? I wanted to ask.

"It was bound to happen." He traced one of my braids with the tip of his finger. "They don't have hockey games to bet on since the NHL lockout, and they're forbidden from betting on _you_." With that, his lips brushed softly at the corner of my mouth. _Ah, that's the Ranger I know_. Before I could turn for a proper kiss, there was the sound of throat clearing, reminding us that we weren't alone.

Kee was standing at the foot of the bed, his blank face in place. _Uh oh._ I went to slide off Ranger's lap but his hand on my hip held me firmly in place.

"I suspect Kee wants to check his handiwork." Ranger paused, and I wasn't sure if what he said next was intended for me or for Kee. "I think it would be best if you stayed right here so I can help you hold still." His voice was kind, but his blank face matched Kee's.

_Please. I'm not a child. I can totally hold still… maybe, _I tried to ESP Ranger. I didn't try very hard though because, truth be told, I really liked sitting on his lap.

I couldn't exactly follow the silent conversation that passed between Kee and Ranger, but at the end of it, Kee sighed a little and moved so that he was standing beside the bed.

"Does your head hurt, Stephanie?" He touched the top of my ear and gently pushed it forward.

"Not really. It's just a tiny bit sore where you stitched me up."

Kee looked pleased but I couldn't tell whether he liked my answer or the healing of the wound behind my ear. "There's going to be some bruising, but the swelling is already improved. This laceration will heal better if you don't get it wet for a couple of days. I'd like for you refrain from washing your hair and take baths instead of showers for the next few days."

"That won't be problem," Ranger answered for me. When Kee and I both looked at him in surprise, he just shrugged. "You've seen the whirlpool tub in the bathroom, right?" he asked me.

Kee produced a small flashlight from his pocket and shone the light in first one eye and then the other. I knew this drill because Bobby did the same thing every time I had a concussion. "Any dizziness? Nausea?"

Cautiously optimistic, I shook my head. Whatever medicine Kee had given me seemed to have worked, because I didn't feel the need to bolt for the bathroom.

He finished by putting the end of his stethoscope on my chest, presumably to listen to my heart and lungs. Turned out, he didn't really need it to hear what was going on inside me. As my stomach roared, Kee's eyes suddenly widened in surprise and Ranger laughed, a full out, honest to goodness laugh.

"I was going to ask if you could eat something," he told me, "but I think your stomach has answered for you." Giving us instructions to meet him in the dining room for a light supper, Kee departed through the door to the study. "Five minutes," he said over his shoulder. "If I have to send someone to retrieve you, be forewarned, it will be Detective Morelli."

_oOoOo_

The scene that awaited us in the dining room looked as if it had been plucked straight from Arthurian legend. Dozens of candles cast soft, flickering shadows on the cream-colored stone walls, while brave, heavily armed men sat in high-backed red leather chairs around a large oak table.

Admittedly, Ranger's dining room table was rectangular, not round, and the guys were drinking bottles of Labatt Blue rather than tankards of ale. Still, I figured this was as close to Camelot as I could ever hope to get.

Ranger pulled out the chair at the head of the table. "For you, M'Lady," he murmured. He seated himself in the chair to my right and I was relieved to see Lester in the chair to my left.

Joe and Hector were at the far end of the table, on opposite sides. As we entered the room, Joe rose and, for a moment, I thought he meant to walk over to me. When Hector stood up too, Joe sank back into his chair, a defeated look on his face.

"Are you alright, Cupcake?"

"I'm fine," I reassured him. "I think I'm even hungry."

That's when I noticed that the guys were eating crisp flatbread pizzas, perfectly blackened around the edges. The flatbreads were topped with cheese and something suspiciously and unfortunately green.

Before I could protest, Kee was at my side. "Don't worry, Stephanie. I know all about your food pyramid."

"So I get cake for dinner?" Call me an optimist, but I hadn't exactly been able to enjoy my doughnut earlier in the day.

"Better than cake," Kee promised with a pointed look at Ranger. "You'll enjoy it just as much _and_ it's good for you."

The bowl he placed in front of me was filled with chicken soup… sort of. The broth tasted of ginger and lime, and instead of noodles, there were perfect little carrot circles and snow peas. For not being cake, it was actually pretty good.

"Not exactly your mother's special recipe," Ranger said to me. I couldn't disagree.

Kee told me that my body had dealt with enough toxins for the day, so instead of drinking beer with the guys, I drank red tea that smelled of flowers and cinnamon. As I drained my teacup, I realized that, despite the lack of alcohol, I felt a slight buzz. _Some tea,_ I thought. I felt warm and happy and safe. Of course the 'warm and happy' part might have had something to do with Ranger's hand gently rubbing my leg under the table.

Feeling a little bit like Wonder Woman, I took a deep breath and looked around the table. As much as I enjoyed Denial Land, I figured it was time to get back to work.

"Guys, I really appreciate you taking care of me for the last two days. Thankfully, I'm feeling better now. Soooo… what's the plan?" Five pairs of dark eyes looked back at me but no one said a word.

"When do we leave? Tomorrow?"

Finally Lester broke the awkward silence, giving me a flirty grin. "Aw, Beautiful, you're not tired of Casa Mañoso already, are you?"

Ranger's hand tightened on my thigh and I thought I might finally be getting the hang of this ESP thing. _Are you, Babe?_ he asked silently.

"No, of course not," I gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand, "but I thought we'd be heading down to Miami."

Lester made a face. "I hate Miami in October. Too much rain, and hurricanes aren't much fun either. Now Cabo… that's the place to go right now if you're craving a little sunshine." He looked at Ranger accusingly. "I knew we should have gone to my house. I would have made sure that Beautiful wasn't bored."

Ranger growled a little as he pulled me into his lap, and I twisted until we were face to face.

"I mean, we are going to get these guys, right?"

"These are bad men, Estephania." Hector's voice was soft and soothing, a startling contrast to what he actually said. "They take Joe to the _Torpeda _Bar. Si? You know what _torpeda_ mean in Russian prison slang? Enforcer."

I shivered a little, and felt Ranger's arms tighten around me, but I wasn't backing down. "But we know how to deal with bad guys, right? They can't be worse than some of the skips we've brought in. We just need to get in the bar. Then I could do a distraction."

"Steph," Lester said gently. "Everyone who works in the bar is in on the scam or is a mark. We're not just going to be able to stroll in like we normally do."

"Then I could just go undercover. Maybe I could get myself hired as a—" I stopped and looked at Tank, searching for the right word, "a b-girl? Is that what you called them?"

"You speak Estonian now, Little Girl?"

_Crap, he had me there._ I looked around the room, searching for an ally, and my eyes finally settled on Joe."

"What about Terry? Wire me up and send me to meet with her. I'll use the pretext of wanting to confront her about sneaking around with my… with _you_. At the very least, I bet I can get her to incriminate herself. "

Joe rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. "Not necessary, Cupcake. Vito Grizzoli is none too happy with his niece for climbing into bed with the Russians without his blessing. He thinks a little time in prison might help her remember the importance of family loyalty. Thanks to Vito, we have all the evidence we need against Terry."

I looked around the table once more and shook my head in disbelief. "Seriously? We're just going to sit here? Let them get away with it?" I tried to move off Ranger's lap and back into my own chair but Ranger didn't let go.

He had been characteristically silent during my rant, and it was making me more crazy than usual. "No," he finally answered. "They won't get away with it. But we're going to carry out the orders that we've been given, and we're going to let everyone else do the same."

"What do you mean by 'everyone else'?"

"The kidnappings and extortion make this an FBI case, and they're on the ground in Miami. They opted to let DEA run point in Trenton with the Ecstasy angle. Because some of the players are foreign nationals, the State Department is also involved."

"Then what's our role?"

"Officially, RangeMan's orders are to protect Morelli until after the takedown and prevent…" Ranger hesitated for a moment before he finished the sentence, "collateral damage. If all goes well, he'll be able to go home in a few days with a security detail. If it doesn't go well, we'll turn him over to WITSEC until the trial."

"That's it? Just keep Joe safe and nothing else? That hardly seems like a good use of your skills."

"Babe," he answered. "I own a security company. Keeping people safe is what we _do_."

"Since when do you just sit and wait?" I countered.

Ranger tucked his finger under my chin and forced me to look him in the eye. "You've been in the control room, right? You've seen the guys working monitor shifts? Not to mention all the times you've been out on surveillance."

He was right, of course. But I wasn't ready to concede defeat. "But what about me? What am _I_ supposed to do while you're protecting Joe?"

"I'm not opposed to you guarding me tonight," Joe said, his eyes black.

"Over my dead body," muttered Ranger.

"Oh no, _Jefe_," Hector said, leaning across the table toward Joe, "it won't be _your _dead body."

"Enough." Kee seemed to appear out of nowhere, sliding into the chair at the head of the table that I had vacated. He put his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers under his chin.

"Stephanie," he said firmly. "I think the boys are not the only ones who need to learn self-control. "

I felt myself blush to the roots of my French-braided hair, but I met Kee's gaze and didn't look away. "I'm not very good at just sitting around waiting for things to happen," I admitted.

"Ranger tells me you have been studying yoga. Is that true?"

Kee's apparent willingness to change the subject caught me off guard, but I was more than eager to forgo talking about my lack of self-control. While I wasn't sure that what we were doing in the bonds office was exactly studying, I nodded in assent anyway.

"So you must have learned that no one can avoid action. The mere fact of saying 'I am' or 'I am thinking' implies already action. We cannot escape action; action is a natural law."

_Huh? _I wanted to ask. But of course, I didn't. I tried to extract a bit of hope from Kee's words. "So I don't just have to sit here? I get to do something?"

Kee smiled encouragingly. "Of course you will be doing something. But remember what the Bhagvad Gita, the sacred Hindu scripture, tells us: he or she who can see inaction in the midst of action, and action in the midst of inaction, is wise." He paused for a moment and regarded me thoughtfully. "Do you understand?"

"Not exactly." _Or not at all,_ I thought to myself. _Who knew this yoga stuff was going to be so complicated?_

"Karma yoga, the yoga of action, is knowing your gift and using it. It is better to follow your own calling imperfectly than follow another's perfectly."

"And what is my calling exactly?"

"Only you know that, Stephanie. No one else can tell you. But I do know that the raid in Miami is going to require very specific tactical and physical skills." Perhaps sensing my frustration, Kee raised his right hand in a "let me finish" gesture.

"I'm not saying that you don't possess those skills, but many others do too. Those skills are not in short supply at the FBI. I am simply proposing that it is more important for you to concentrate on the task that _only you_ can do."

"But what can be more important than catching the bad guys?"

Kee bent close to me, close enough so that his breath tickled my ear, and he spoke softly, as if he didn't want anyone else at the table to hear his next words.

"Maybe this time you should just concentrate on catching the good guy."


	11. Chapter Eleven: The Truth Comes Out

**A/N: Thanks to Margaret and Proudofyoubabe for reading ahead and offering encouragement. I'm sending a virtual box of chocolates to Dog in the Manger for her multiple careful reviews of this chapter. When I wrote myself into a corner, she pulled me back out. As always, all mistakes are mine.**

**This chapter deals with difficult, even offensive, subject matter. Apologies in advance. **

For the second afternoon in a row, I woke up alone in the beautiful canopy bed. When my hand brushed Ranger's cool pillow, I felt a bitter pang of betrayal. _Had he left me here and gone to Miami after all?_

I reached for my phone to check the time and found a note on the bedside table written in that familiar perfect script.

_Gone for a run._

I was mostly relieved as I fingered the note.

_What?_ the little voice inside my head asked. _It's after two in the afternoon. You honestly thought he was going to stay in bed all day and watch you sleep?_

"Stuff like that only happens in romance novels," I muttered to myself.

_It's the note, isn't it? _my nagging inside voice argued. _Maybe you were expecting him to sign it, 'Love, Carlos'?_

"Of course not," I said out loud to the empty room, swinging my feet off the bed to the floor. Wishing, maybe. Certainly not expecting. But honestly, after the revelations of the last twenty-four hours, I wasn't sure what to expect anymore.

My outburst at dinner had left me exhausted, and I had fallen asleep at the table, curled up in Ranger's lap. At some point, he had carried me upstairs and tucked me into bed. I remember that he had pulled me close to him and whispered that everything would be OK. I must have made some sound of protest because he kissed me lightly and asked, "Do you trust me?" I can't remember if I answered him but it didn't matter. Both of us knew that I did.

I sighed a little and headed to the bathroom where I found another note. This one was stuck to the glass door of the shower.

_Bath. _

As I touched the row of stitches behind my ear, I remembered thatRanger was good in the shower. Very, very good. I couldn't help but wonder if he was equally good in the bath.

When I made my way to the beautiful whirlpool tub, I found two sachets filled with Bulgari bath salts and another note.

_Babe. You have no idea._

I filled the tub with hot water, added the bath salts, turned on the jets and climbed in. When the water cooled off, I let most of it out and started again. I was contemplating filling the tub a third time when I heard a knock at the door. For half a second, I panicked, thinking that pruney fingers and toes weren't exactly sexy. But Ranger, I realized sadly, never knocked.

"Stephanie, your breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes. We'll eat in the kitchen."

"Tell the guys not to wait on me," I called out to Kee. I was relieved _and_ disappointed. "I think I'll need longer than fifteen minutes."

I heard him chuckle. "The boys ate hours ago. Your clothes are on the bed, and you don't need to do your hair. I'll see you in fifteen minutes."

When I found my way to the kitchen just over fifteen minutes later, Kee was standing at the stove, his back to me, stirring something in a large kettle. I stood in the doorway a moment, taking in my surroundings.

No surprise, the appliances were stainless steel and state of the art. A wood burning pizza oven in the corner explained the perfectly blackened crust on the flatbreads last night. It was the room itself though, that took my breath away. Three of the walls in the kitchen were stone, as in the dining room. The fourth wall was made entirely of sliding glass panels that looked out onto a patio, a manicured lawn and a grove of trees blazing with fall color. In the distance, beyond the trees, I caught a glimpse of blue and realized it must be a river.

"Sit," Kee said to me, without turning around.

_Guess I know who taught Ranger the one-word thing._

I heard Kee chuckle. "I taught him a lot of things. That might have been one of them."

"I have this bad habit of thinking out loud," I admitted, hoisting myself into a high-backed chair at the marble-topped island in the center of the room. My stomach rumbled, and I realized that I was hungry… for pancakes. "I'm just hoping that you're not the one who taught him to eat twigs and bark."

"Actually, quinoa and amaranth are both seeds," he said matter-of-factly, setting a steaming bowl of cereal down in front of me. "The Aztecs thought amaranth had magical properties that would give them amazing strength." He shrugged a little. "I just like the way it tastes when mixed with steel cut oats."

I tried not to wrinkle my nose when I saw the cereal, I really did. "I don't have a lot of experience with oatmeal," I said as I picked up my spoon and stirred uncertainly at the stuff in the bowl.

"Then it's time to broaden your horizons," Kee answered, pushing a little glass pitcher toward me. "Maybe a bit of warm maple syrup will help."

Ranger had once told me that he was going to broaden my horizons, but somehow this wasn't what I had imagined. Suddenly, the maple syrup wasn't the only thing that was warm.

"Have some syrup, Stephanie. Keeping a little sugar in your system is going to be best for all concerned right now."

"I'm not sure that's best for _me_," I grumbled.

Kee's eyes widened a little, and he looked amused. He placed a lid on the kettle and moved to sit next to me. He gave me an expectant look, waiting for me to taste the cereal. I added a generous drizzle of syrup to the bowl and decided that a little distraction couldn't hurt.

"So you're Ranger's caretaker," I began, swirling the syrup into the cereal with my spoon.

When Kee smiled at me, I once again felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "The caretaker for Ranger's estate, I mean."

"Actually, I think you may have been closer to the truth the first time," he said mildly. His elbows were on the island and his fingers were steepled under his chin. He looked pointedly at my bowl, and I realized he was waiting for me to taste it.

"Are you a medic like Bobby?" I stirred the cereal a little more.

"Not exactly. I finished medical school and an internship before I joined the army."

"Ah. So you were a doctor in the army?"

"Not for long. It turned out that my skills as a sniper were much more valuable than my skills as a doctor."

Whatever I had been expecting him to say, it wasn't that. I forgot about my intent to distract and took a bite of oatmeal in spite of myself. It wasn't moan-worthy, but it wasn't bad. After I swallowed, I found Kee staring at me intently, his expression now serious. Then he relaxed a bit in his chair, adjusting so that his arms were resting on the armrests, his palms up. I meant to ask him another question, but he beat me to it.

"Stephanie, what do you see when you look at me?"

I searched his face, looking for a clue as to what sort of answer he was expecting.

"It's not a trick question," he said, making me wonder if he was the one who taught Ranger the whole ESP thing. "Just look at me and tell me who you see."

"I see a kind man," I blurted out. "I'm sure it would have been much easier for you to shave my head before you stitched me up, but you didn't."

"The easier way is not always better. What else?"

I gave him an appraising look. I thought my first impression of him was still on target. He was definitely Merry Man material. Despite his age, he was still hot… just hot in a Mark Harmon or George Clooney sort of way.

Kee laughed, a soft, deep, melodic laugh. _Yep, I definitely amused him._

"I'm flattered, Stephanie, but that's not what I meant. " I took a bite of cereal, bit my lip and thought _hard._

"Do you mean that you're Asian?" I finally asked.

"Asian-American," he corrected. "I was born in New Jersey, the same as you."

"Sorry," I said quickly. Talking about race always made a little uncomfortable, and I was worried that I had inadvertently offended Kee.

"Don't," he said, with an edge to his voice. "You, of all people, have nothing to apologize for."

Suddenly, I wasn't hungry anymore. I put my spoon down and pushed the bowl aside.

"My full name is Kee Hao Nguyen. I am a first generation Vietnamese-American. I am proud of my heritage, but I am ashamed to admit that wasn't always the case."

I tried to place the expression that appeared briefly on his face and then disappeared. _Sadness? Regret?_

"I'm a good listener, if you want to talk about it." I covered his hand with mine to give it a reassuring squeeze.

Kee was silent for a long moment, his eyes half-closed, almost as if he was meditating. When he finally spoke, he didn't look at me but stared out the glass doors instead. "In 1961, my father was a respected doctor in Saigon. One night, he was called to the American embassy because the ambassador's daughter was very ill with meningitis. My father treated her, she recovered, and the ambassador was immensely grateful."

"Your father sounds like a good man," I murmured encouraging him to continue.

"He _was_," Kee admitted, emphasizing the past tense. "And it wasn't long before the ambassador had the chance to return the favor. The government in South Vietnam was becoming increasingly corrupt and autocratic. After a failed coup attempt, civil unrest was escalating. That's when the ambassador offered my parents a chance to move to the United States. Knowing that an immigrant wouldn't be able to work as a doctor right away, he arranged for my father to be offered a research position at Princeton. I was born a year after my parents moved to New Jersey."

"I see," I said softly. Although truthfully, I wasn't sure that I did.

Kee cleared his throat. "The early seventies were not an easy time to be Asian in America. There was a lot of prejudice, even in a liberal university town like Princeton. I had never set foot in Vietnam and spoke less than one hundred words of Vietnamese, but it didn't matter. If I looked like the enemy, I must _be_ the enemy."

"I'm sorry." I seemed to be saying that a lot to Kee. "I can't really imagine what you went through."

He just shrugged. "We are all shaped by our life experiences. I tell you this not to make you feel sorry for me, but so that you have some insight into the man I became. Do you understand?"

I nodded, hoping he would continue.

"Do you know the popular stereotype about Vietnamese kids? They're either valedictorians, out to prove themselves, or juvenile delinquents, rebelling against the society and all of its inherent prejudices? There was definitely some truth in that, especially after the waves of immigration started following the war."

"So which were you?" I asked, thinking about Ranger's troubled teen years. I was wondering if he and Kee had ended up in the army for similar reasons.

"Definitely NOT juvenile delinquent. I was a quiet kid, worked hard, tried to make my parents proud without drawing a whole lot of attention to myself. I skipped a grade in high school and then finished college in 3 years. Going to medical school was never in question. I was going to live the dream that my father had given up for a chance to live and raise his family in the United States."

"Did you even want to go to medical school?"

"Desperately," he admitted. "I wanted to save lives, just as my father had done. I wanted to honor my parents' sacrifices, and I wanted to earn my place as a respected member of the community."

"All good things," I answered, giving him a little smile.

Kee looked like he was considering what to say next, choosing his words carefully. "True. But, I found them lacking." He gave me a self-depreciating smile. "One night, when I was working the overnight shift at the ED at Bellevue when the EMTs rolled in a guy who was bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound. As soon as he was rolled in the door, I started doing what I had been trained to do."

"Were you able to save him?"

"I didn't get the chance. As soon as I got near him, he went ballistic, screaming that the _Gook _needed to get away from him."

"That's horrible," I murmured.

"Intellectually, even then, I understood. The guy was a Vietnam vet suffering from PTSD… that's what had gotten him shot in the first place. Emotionally, though, it was the last straw. I couldn't help wondering if he was saying out loud what everyone else in the ER had been thinking. I joined the Army the next day, ready to prove my patriotism and convince everyone I was as American as the next blond, blue-eyed guy. I entered the Rangers just before the Gulf War and didn't leave until I retired from active duty."

"That's how you met Ranger," I guessed. "You were his commanding officer."

"Yes, his CO, among other things. His teacher. His mentor." With the fingers of his right hand, Kee rubbed the back of his neck, almost as if he was trying to relieve some tension there. "I recognized his exceptional potential the day he showed up for training. I knew he could be one of the best."

"Even better than you?" I pushed.

"Definitely better than me," Kee said quietly. "Maybe the best since…" He stopped abruptly. "That's probably a story for another time."

"But—"

Kee just shook his head at me. "Before Carlos joined the Army, he'd gotten himself into trouble. He'd lacked purpose. I remedied that. I helped him channel all of his intensity. I taught him the importance of duty and sacrifice, forcing him to compartmentalize so that he could focus on the mission at hand. I encouraged him to distance himself from family and friends, so that they couldn't come between him and the job."

When the realization hit me, I almost tumbled out of my chair in surprise. "Julie?" I asked. "Your idea for him to give up custody?"

"Not exactly. I did tell him it was a noble thing to do, to let Ron adopt Julie. Families are a luxury for men like us, one that most of us can't afford."

"You never married or had children of your own, did you? Do you ever regret that?"

"I served with several men through the years that I would be proud to call my sons."

I knew without asking Ranger was one of those men. Suddenly, Kee's place in this house was very clear to me.

"That was enough," he insisted quietly, "at least for me."

Right this minute, watching Kee, I wasn't sure that either of us believed him.

"Soldiers need to rely on instinct and training, Stephanie. Emotional attachments just get in the way. Emotions get them killed."

I studied him for a moment, realizing that his face was anything but emotionless now.

"Something happened to change your mind about that. What was it?" I asked him bluntly.

Kee looked at me and then looked away, once again staring at the trees outside the window. "Nearly five years ago, I was headed to Afghanistan for a training mission when I got a call from my father. He'd had a mild heart attack, and he was being admitted to a hospital."

"You passed on the mission," I guessed.

"No," he said. "I went to Afghanistan."

I blinked back tears as I thought about the sacrifices we asked our soldiers to make. "I'm sure you would have stayed if you could have."

Kee turned in his chair, nudging me until I did the same and we were facing one another, knee to knee. "Don't misunderstand me, Stephanie. I never considered _not _going. And my father certainly didn't expect me to stay... he expected me to do my job and honor my duty to my country."

For a full minute, we sat, not saying anything. Finally, Kee broke the silence by clearing his throat. "I really planned to take some time off after Afghanistan and spend it with him. The training exercise was only supposed to last 5 days, and I thought he would be in the hospital at least that long. That turned out to be a tactical error."

"What happened?" I asked, knowing in my heart what the essence of Kee's answer would be.

"Medical error," Kee replied flatly. "He was inadvertently given ten times the normal dose of heparin and had bleeding in his brain. He never woke up."

Words of comfort stuck in my throat and I choked back a sob.

"That was it for me," Kee said. "I had more than 20 years of service, and so I retired immediately. I decided it was time to re-evaluate and find what was missing in my life. Ultimately, I decided that I needed to get back in touch with my roots."

I was picturing a Buddhist monastery in Southeast Asia when I heard Kee chuckle.

"While a lot of the Buddhist teachings resonate with me, I was raised Roman Catholic, just like you." He paused. "I actually went the VA Hospital in Kansas City to brush up on my doctor skills."

"That's not where you learned all the yoga stuff, is it?"

"More like re-discovered. It turns out yoga _stuff _and meditation are actually quite therapeutic for soldiers for physical wounds," he paused for moment, "as well as emotional ones. Many veterans' facilities now offer Warrior Yoga programs."

"So how did you end up... here?" I asked, my head spinning from all that Kee had revealed to me. _Damn, I'm still clueless where 'here' is._

"New Jersey," Kee replied quickly. "We're in New Jersey." He hesitated for a moment. "Almost three years ago, Carlos called and asked for my help."

If I had been able to pull off badass bounty hunter, I would have just lifted one eyebrow at Kee and waited for him to explain. Being me, I just shifted on my chair a little and managed to croak out, "Oh?" I'd spent less than an hour with Kee and suddenly I was struggling to put together more than one word answers. Kee was quite a teacher!

"He had just accepted a new mission and he was having quite a bit of trouble. None of the usual rules seemed to be working and that had never happened before. He had all of the muscle but none of the power. He was at his wit's end."

"Hard to imagine Ranger at his wit's end," I admitted. "What was so special about this particular mission?"

Kee shrugged a little. "From what he told me, _everything _was special about this mission. But maybe you've realized that by now, Stephanie. He called it Operation Eliza."

Without warning, the doors to leading the patio slid open and Ranger stepped inside. The front of his long-sleeved t-shirt was damp, and his face and neck were shiny with sweat.

I stood up and took one step toward him, my heart pounding in my chest. In that moment, I was the moth to Ranger's oh-so-hot flame. I'd had a taste of post-work out Ranger in the past, and I'd found him salty and sweet and damn near irresistible. When I saw a bead of moisture slip down his neck, I had an almost uncontrollable urge to give him a little lick. I might have done it too, but unfortunately, someone beat me to it.

Ranger made eye contact and held out his arms, as if to give me a hug. His face lit up with a two-hundred watt smile just before he looked past me and called out, "Tara!"


	12. Chapter Twelve: Man's Best Friend

_A/N: Thanks to Dog in the Manger for working on multiple versions of this chapter and for patiently fixing my mistakes. To those of you who have reviewed as "Guest," I'm sorry that I can't thank you personally but I appreciate your feedback. Yes, I absolutely acknowledge that Joe may be out of character in this story. JE has given us some fabulous characters to play with… and I felt like playing a bit in this story. _

_I hope you all enjoy meeting Tara. There is one more chapter after this, which I hope to post next week. _

I heard what sounded like a yip and out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of gray and white. Ranger crouched down to the floor, crooning in Spanish, and a Siberian husky puppy flung her paws onto his shoulders and started licking his face.

"Stephanie," said Kee, smirking a little bit at my shocked expression. "Meet Tara."

"Tara," I repeated dumbly.

"It's short for _Nutaralak_, the Inuit word for baby. Do you want to pet her?" Ranger asked.

I took two steps forward, and Tara obediently rolled onto her back. I sank down next to Ranger and rubbed the puppy's tummy while Ranger affectionately scratched under her chin.

"She's darling," I said hesitantly.

"But?"

"I guess I just never pictured you as a dog person."

Ranger shrugged a little and grinned. "Girls with blue eyes are my weakness," he said. When I smacked his shoulder, he laughed a little before his expression turned serious.

"Morelli has Bob, and you don't find that strange."

"Joe is an Italian-American cop who lives in the Burg. He drinks beer, cuts his own grass, and plays in a softball league on Saturdays. Guys like that have dogs."

"And guys like me?" He did that one eyebrow thing that was so endearing, but at the same time so annoying. I was pretty sure I understood the implication. _Yeah Babe? You were expecting a winged dragon? Enchanted owls? What?_

"You know what I mean," I answered lamely, never taking my eyes off Tara.

"Hey," he said softly. The hand that had been petting Tara now stroked gently under my chin. "You probably already get this, because you have Rex, but Kee has convinced me that having a pet is an essential component of full, well-lived life."

"Oh?"

"Something about learning to accept that another being can love you unconditionally."

I was going to ask him to explain, but Ranger's ESP kicked in once again.

"I leave her for weeks at a time. She doesn't really know if I'll be back or when. Even when I am here, she doesn't always have my full attention, yet-"

"She still loves you," I finished for him.

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" He shook his head, not really believing it himself.

"Not really," I whispered. Not really hard at all.

The grinding of the garbage disposal reminded us both that Kee was still in the kitchen.

"I thought you could take Stephanie for a hike this afternoon, explore the grounds a bit, maybe go down to the river," Kee said to Ranger, scraping the remains of my breakfast into the sink.

"Good idea," Ranger replied. "You up for that, Babe?"

He studied me for a moment, taking in the way I was dressed. Soft brown corduroys, a pale pink hoodie over a long sleeved pink t-shirt and Patagonia hiking shoes. Since Kee had chosen my clothes again today, I certainly looked ready for a walk in the woods.

Before I could answer, Tara rolled over, and tucked her head toward her front paws, wagging her tail and barking excitedly.

Ranger chuckled and scratched between her ears. "I already knew what _your_ answer was going be, _Chiquita_. I was talking to Stephanie."

"But you've just gone for a run," I protested. "I'm sure you don't want to go right back out again."

"Running's good for the body, but hiking's good for the soul." He glanced up at Kee, who gave him an infinitesimal nod of approval. "Just let me grab a shower and change clothes. I'll be ready to go in ten."

As soon as Ranger disappeared from the kitchen, Kee was at my side, offering a hand to help me up.

"Are you OK, Stephanie?" he asked as he pulled me to my feet.

"I'm good. Why?"

"It can be a shock, the first time you come face to face with the other woman in your lover's life."

I wanted to protest, I really did. Kee didn't have to know about the ache in my heart when I heard Ranger say "Tara" when I was expecting him to say 'Babe." In retrospect, that seemed so silly.

"But he's not my lover-" I answered instead, an unexpected little hitch in my voice.

Kee shushed me_, shushed me!, _tapping his index finger to his lips. "Stephanie," he scolded, "it is more important to focus on who he_ is_ than who he is not."

I bent and scooped Tara into my arms, nuzzling her ear against my cheek. "That's just it," I said, more to her than to Kee. "I wish, I knew."

"Don't worry," he said kindly. "You'll figure it out."

Before he could say more, I changed the subject. "Better get ready for that hike. Where do you keep Tara's leash?" I asked.

"A leash? Why would she need a leash?" Kee repeated, puzzled.

"I mean, I wouldn't want her to run away. She's just a puppy-"

"She may be just a puppy, but she knows that everything she could ever want is here… a warm bed, good food, and people who adore her. She likes a little adventure in the woods now and then, but she knows that she belongs here. Why would she ever want to leave?"

I was pretty sure we were still talking about Tara.

"Ranger really wants her here," I said quietly. "He chooses for her to be here." _Me? I just kept showing up at his homes uninvited. _

"Do you honestly think that Carlos doesn't want you here, Stephanie?" Kee still radiated his usual Zen-like calm, but I got the idea that he was getting a tiny bit exasperated with me. "Is this about his choices or yours?"

I buried my head in Tara's fur, biting my lip in an attempt not to cry.

"I've really made a mess of this, haven't I?"

"You had a fair amount of help," he reassured me.

He crooked his finger at me, indicating that I should follow him. We left the kitchen and walked down a short hallway. Kee pushed open a door and ushered me into a large room that was bathed in sunlight and sparsely furnished with an eclectic mix of antique and modern furniture. I was realizing that the room bore an uncanny resemblance to Ranger's living room on Haywood, when Kee pointed to a bookshelf on the far wall. There, on the center shelf, sat a white porcelain vase, about eight inches tall, with a wide base and a narrowing opening at the top. Painted in bold, blue brushstrokes was a bird in flight. It was simple and startlingly beautiful.

My host tipped his head, showing me that he saw and appreciated my reaction. "This is a fifteenth century Hoi An vase that has been in my family for generations. It was one of our most prized possessions and one of the few things my parents were able to bring from Vietnam when they immigrated."

His hand at the small of my back, Kee walked me across the room until we were standing directly in front of the bookshelf.

"It was always displayed in a place of honor in our home, on a small wooden table in the entryway.

He turned the vase around, and I saw three large, intersecting cracks. When I gasped, Tara turned in my arms and licked my face.

Unfazed, Kee continued with his story. "One day when I was about eight, I ran through the house looking for my parents. I had earned the top score in my class on a science test, and I couldn't wait to share the news. In my excitement, I bumped into the table and knocked the vase to the floor, breaking it."

"It was an accident," I said. _I'd certainly had my share of those. _

"Of course it was," he agreed. "But my lack of malintent didn't change the outcome. One could have argued that the vase was ruined, and the only course of action was to reach for a broom and a dust pan."

"But your parents didn't see it that way."

"No, they didn't. They simply gathered up the pieces and painstakingly glued them back together. I can still picture them seated at the kitchen table, their heads bent over the shards, working as diligently as museum conservators. The vase was never less beautiful or valuable to them because it now had imperfections."

Kee tucked one finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"I learned two valuable lessons that night," he said. "Nothing is perfect. Everything can be fixed."

With all my heart, I hoped Kee was right.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Working it Out

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading along and I hope you enjoy the final chapter. The best part about writing this story was the chance to "talk" with some of you every week about our friends in the World of Plum. Hugs to Dog in the Manger for really being a partner in the creative process that resulted in Revelations. I am sincerely grateful. The characters you recognize (and one of the kisses) belong to JE.**

The puppy and I had barely settled ourselves in one of the teak lounge chairs on the patio when Ranger re-appeared. Tara panted happily at him, and truthfully, so did I. Wearing brown cargo pants and a faded blue plaid flannel shirt, open at the neck and sleeves rolled to his elbows, he looked as if he'd just walked off the pages of an ultra-sexy L.L. Bean catalogue. _Was Kee laying out Ranger's clothes too? _I wondered, choking back a laugh.

"You enjoying the view?" he asked, glancing toward the thick grove of trees, their leaves golden and scarlet, and the azure ribbon of river beyond.

I shoved my sunglasses on top of my head and looked him up and down, licking my lips a little in the process. "Now I am."

Ranger's eyes darkened, and he took a step toward me. "Playing with fire, Babe."

The spell was broken when Tara jumped off my lap and sniffed excitedly at the grass at the corner of the patio.

"You ready?" he asked, pulling me gently to my feet.

"Do we need to wait for our back up?" I asked. "Or is that Tara the Wonder Dog?"

"Smart ass." He delivered a friendly smack to my butt.

As Tara ran ahead of us, Ranger reached out for my hand, lacing our fingers together.

"You don't have to hold onto me, " I joked. "I'm not going to make a break for it." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew it was the wrong thing to say.

Ranger dropped my hand. "You're a guest in my home, Stephanie. Not a prisoner."

As he shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargos and moved away from me, I felt my heart break into a million little pieces.

Tara, blissfully unaware of the awkward tension, raced down the steep expanse of manicured lawn toward the woods. Occasionally, she stopped, making sure we were still following. We trudged after her in silence, dry leaves crunching under our feet. _I'm sorry_, I tried to ESP Ranger, but he didn't seem to notice. Maybe he had a hiking zone. Or maybe he had just decided to tune me out.

We'd been walking about fifteen minutes when I stepped on a fallen tree branch, the wood rolling beneath my foot. When I went down hard on my hands and knees, I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

Almost immediately, Ranger was crouching next to me, scanning me for injuries. "Are you OK, Babe? Are you hurt?" He looked worried as he brushed dirt and dried brown pine needles from my palms.

"I'm not hurt, but I'm not OK, " I sobbed. "My life is a mess."

Cradling me in his arms, he stood and walked us to a shady clearing. After settling us on a large, flat rock, he brushed his lips lightly across my closed eyelids, kissing my tears away. "Please don't cry," he murmured, in between feather soft kisses to my cheeks and the tip of my nose. When his lips touched the corner of my mouth, I couldn't help myself. My tongue darted out, seeking his. I wanted to kiss him back.

Ranger pulled back abruptly, and for a moment, he just looked at me with an intensity that was almost frightening. Then he tightened his arms around me and kissed me again, soft at first, then serious and demanding.

Like our very first kiss, the one in my parking lot, this one was full of desire, hot and liquid and a little scary. It was the longing, though, that took my breath away.

"You still think this is a bad idea?" he finally asked.

I avoided his question with one of my own. "Does this mean you're not mad that Hector and Lester brought me here?"

He reached out and played with a curl that had escaped from my French braid. As he tucked it behind my ear, he sighed and shook his head. "Babe. I've been ready for you to be here for a long time," he finally said.

"How can you say that?" I protested. "You never—"

He silenced me with another kiss. "You found my building on Haywood by following the GPS in my truck. Every vehicle I've loaned you since then has had directions for this house programmed into the GPS. Your key fob for Haywood also works on the gate at the end of the drive here and the front door."

"But…" I let my voice trail off. I really didn't know what to say.

"When you're on a mission, you're practically unstoppable. I thought if it were important to you, you would find this place. I've just been waiting for you to make it a priority."

He paused, letting his unspoken question hang in the air. _Where are your priorities now, Babe?_

Tara, who had been lying quietly at our feet, raised her head and licked my hand. Before I had a chance to answer, the late afternoon sun slipped behind a cloud, leaving the clearing dark and uncomfortably chilly. When I shivered, Ranger looked resigned and stood up, making sure I was steady on my feet before he let go of me.

"We probably have an hour or so before dusk," he said. "Let's move."

We followed Tara out of the clearing and after about a hundred yards, the path became too narrow for Ranger and me to walk side by side. With one hand at the small of my back, he gestured for me to walk in front of him. It wasn't long before the path forked, and I assumed that one path led down to the river while the other led back up to the house.

I turned slightly, looking at Ranger over my shoulder. "So where do we go from here?"

For a moment, Ranger was silent. "Forward, Stephanie. We just move forward."

At the river's edge, there was a hammock, a little gazebo with a wooden swing and a raised wooden walkway that led to an octagon-shaped, red cedar boat dock. As Ranger led me to the swing, he followed my gaze to the dock. "Kee and I started building it this summer," he explained. "It's not quite finished."

We sat, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the water. I tucked my feet up under me and leaned into Ranger a bit while he rocked the swing gently.

"There was something different about my dad," I began, biting my lip and hesitating, "I don't think I've seen that side of him. It's not just that he seems to be able to speak Spanish and Russian. He was so clearly in charge… he had Lester standing at attention and following orders."

Ranger barked out a laugh, and the swing moved a little faster. "Good for him. That's no easy feat where Santos is concerned."

"Lester seemed to know things about my dad, things that I don't know. He called him Major Plum."

"You'll have to ask your dad about it, Babe. It's not my story to tell."

"But what if he won't tell me?"

Ranger gave an infinitesimal shrug that was really nothing more than a twitch of his shoulder and a tilt of his chin. "Maybe he can't. Maybe he can, but he's just not ready. Whatever happens, it doesn't mean that he loves you any less."

Ranger fell silent, and I got the distinct impression he wasn't just talking about my dad.

"He was a Ranger too, wasn't he?"

"One of the best," Ranger said quietly. And as I listened to the rustle of leaves disturbed by an errant breeze, I contemplated what 'best' meant in Ranger terms.

"Hey," he said, cupping my cheek lightly. "Your dad served his country with honor and integrity. He set the standard that soldiers still strive for today." He forced me to meet his gaze. "Isn't that enough? Do you really need to know more?"

"Need?" I smiled nervously. "Nope. Definitely don't need more. Not sure that I even want more."

"Enough revelations for one week?"

"About that." I cleared my throat. "You knew about Joe. You knew he was seeing Terry."

"And you can honestly tell me that you didn't?" Ranger asked. He planted his feet and the swing stopped moving.

"I, I mean…" I was at a loss for words. "Still, you could have told me."

"Babe, I've done and said a lot idiotic things where you are concerned but-."

"Yeah?" I interrupted. "Such as?"

For at least a minute, we sat in silence, listening to the water lapping against the half-finished boat dock.

"I think you know," he said finally.

"Of course, I know. I just want to make sure that you do."

Ranger gave an uncharacteristic sigh, pressing two fingers against his right temple. I thought he might be trying to stop an eye twitch, but I couldn't be sure.

"You called me a line item in your budget under 'entertainment.' _Twice._"

"That was thoughtless," he agreed, looking oddly relieved. "I'm not going to try and justify that."

"That really hurt my feelings," I told him, pausing for a moment. "You love me in your own way?"

"Unnecessarily vague and open to misinterpretation," he admitted.

"You could never be the base of my food pyramid?"

"Never wasn't the right word," he said. "At the time, I couldn't be the base of your food pyramid."

"You don't do stupid things like marriage or babies."

"I don't," he said. "I mean, at the time, I didn't." He traced little circles on the back of my hand. "I'm not good at this. What I'm trying to say is those things wouldn't necessarily be stupid with the right person."

"What _are_ you saying, Ranger?"

When he didn't answer right away, I decided to continue with my rant. "You ruin me for all other men and THEN you tell me to fix my relationship with Joe!"

Ranger sighed. "For a moment there, I thought you might give me a reprieve on that one."

I glared at him, and Tara barked loudly, wagging her tail so hard her whole body shook. She jumped into his lap and licked his face.

He raised both hands in surrender. "In my defense, you had just told me that we weren't going to work. But you're right. It was still a stupid thing to say. I'm trying to make the point that I didn't want to add one more stupid thing to an already long list by forcing you to acknowledge Joe's indiscretions before you were ready. "

I opened my mouth to answer him, but no words came out.

Ranger wrapped his left arm around my shoulders and tilted his head so that it rested on top of mine. "Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted you to come to me because you wanted to be with me… not because you were trying to get away from Joe."

Of all the revelations this week, I think that was the biggest one of all.

"Wanting was never the issue," I whispered, burying my face in his neck. Before I could reveal the rest, I was interrupted by a loud, low-pitched rumble. It sounded a little bit like thunder, except it was very, very close.

"That wasn't me!" I insisted, blushing to the roots of my hair anyway.

For the first time since we had left the house, Ranger smiled. It might not have been the full two hundred watts, but it was enough to light up my little corner of the world.

"I know," he said, rubbing Tara's tummy affectionately. "It's time to feed the little beast. She's had a busy afternoon."

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, we followed Tara back along the path we had descended to reach the river. Just after we emerged from the woods and climbed a small hill, the house appeared, almost as an apparition. I couldn't help but gasp.

"I get it," Ranger said, taking in my reaction. "The house is sort of over the top."

"Not over the top, exactly," I tried to reassure him. "I mean, it's not as if you have your own tennis court and an indoor pool."

He cleared his throat, and for the second time in two days, I saw him look a little bit sheepish.

"The tennis court is down by the carriage house. The pool is actually in the sun porch behind the east wing."

"Wow. Just don't tell me there's a bowling alley in the basement," I tried to joke.

"Do you want one?" He looked absolutely serious.

I shook my head, reaching out to him. I wanted to end our hike the way we had started it, hand in hand.

"It's lovely… something out of a fairy tale."

"Most fairy tales usually have happily ever after endings," he told me, squeezing gently.

Not knowing what else to say, I just squeezed back. As we approached the top of the hill, the patio within sight, I had a thought.

"Ranger, last night, Lester called this place Casa Mañoso. Is that what you call it?" I remembered a small brass plaque on the stone gateposts at the end of the driveway, but it had been too dark to read it the night we arrived at the house.

"No," he said slowly. "I call it Casi el Cielo."

My faced scrunched up in confusion and Ranger looked as if he wanted to laugh. He didn't though. When he answered, his voice was soft, practically wistful.

"Almost Heaven," he translated.

"And is it?" I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

"It could be."

_oOoOo_

Kee was waiting for us on the patio, seated in the chair, which Tara and I had vacated earlier, a cup of tea by his side. His lips tilted up in an enigmatic, almost smile when he caught sight of us and our joined hands. Then his eyes traveled lower, and I could see his brow crease when he took in my mud-stained knees.

"Problem?" he asked.

"Not really," I answered, a strange and unfamiliar lightness in my chest. "Nothing that can't be fixed."

"Good girl," he murmured before he turned to Ranger. "The boys and Detective Morelli are waiting for you in your office. Hector has a live feed from both Miami and Trenton. Antonio is on site with the FBI, but they want a word with you."

Ranger squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. He might have been wearing flannel, but Batman was back. "You coming with me, Babe?"

It meant a lot that Ranger wanted to include me. But I took one look at Kee, Tara snuggled in his lap, and the last, orange rays of sunset reflecting on the river, and made my decision. "No," I said flopping down in the chair next to Kee. "I don't think so."

"Do you miss it?" I asked after Ranger had brushed one last kiss across my lips and then disappeared through the patio doors. "All the action?"

Kee stroked Tara's head, deliberating before he answered. "Ultimately, the battles are all the same." He took a sip of tea. "But the sunsets, Stephanie? Every one is different."

_oOoOo_

Ranger entered the bedroom shortly after midnight, just as I was getting ready to put on my pajamas and brush my teeth.

"What's the news?" I asked.

"It's over," he said, unbuckling his watch and laying it on the bedside table. "They raided Torpeda Bar tonight. Ten people were taken into custody, including the two girls who duped Joe. Terri Gilman is also in custody."

My brain told me I should have been relieved. My heart, though, couldn't get on the same page as my brain. My heart was wishing that I had a good reason to stay a little bit longer at Casi el Cielo.

"So that's it? No more exploding cars? I don't have to worry about being stalked or kidnapped?"

"Babe." From the slight tilt of his lips, I could tell that I was amusing him.

"Thank goodness," I said, willing myself to sound enthusiastic. "I guess things can get back to normal now."

"Is that really what you want, Stephanie?" He looked a little sad and turned away from me.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found Ranger kneeling in the middle of the bed, not unlike I had done two nights ago, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting black sweat pants. When our eyes met, he brought his hands together in front of his heart and bowed his head. "Namaste," he said.

"Tell me what you mean when you say that, Ranger," I said, remembering the words he had said to me the first night.

He held his arms out, gesturing for me to kneel on the bed facing him. Holding both of my hand in one of his, he explained, "Literally translated, the term means 'I bow to you.' The gesture Namaste represents the belief that there is a divine spark in all of us that rests within the heart." He put his right hand flat on my chest. "Namaste is the acknowledgement of the soul in one by the soul in another."

"So when I say Namaste to you, what I am really saying is that I honor the place in you, where the entire Universe resides. I honor the place in you, where lies your love, your truth, your beauty." His free hand moved up to caress my cheek, and at that moment, I felt beautiful. "If you are in that place in you, and I am in that place in me, we are one.**"**

Then Ranger proceeded to prove, once again, why one was so much better than two.

I woke up when the first rays of dawn bathed the bedroom in soft, pink light. I was sprawled on Ranger's chest, my head nestled in the hollow between his neck and his shoulder. He was already awake and watching me.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

"Is it time for you to get up?" I mumbled.

"_We _can stay in bed, Babe… unless you want to say goodbye to the guys. Hector and Lester are taking Morelli back to Trenton this morning."

"I don't think so." I figured my RangeBuddies would forgive me, especially if I went straight to five to apologize as soon as we got back to Haywood. As for Joe, we would talk eventually, but right now, I didn't have anything left to say to him.

"They will, Babe," replied Ranger, proving that his ESP worked with very little sleep. "Even if we don't get back to Trenton for a while."

I meant to ask about that, I really did. _So we can really just stay here? How long is a while?_ As I snuggled into Ranger, I decided there would be plenty of time for questions after a little nap.

"All the time in the world," he promised, ghosting a kiss across my forehead.

I was almost asleep when he tapped gently on my right hip.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well?" I returned his question, lifting my head so that we were face to face. Images from the last seven hours came flooding back. Ranger wasn't exactly the kind of guy to ask for reviews of his performance in bed, but—

"Um, no," he said. I could almost swear that he rolled his eyes. "You figure it out yet? Who I am?"

"Oh yeah," I replied sleepily, still a little amazed that it had taken me so long to realize the obvious answer. "You're the guy who loves me."

_Perfectly. Completely. Forever._


End file.
